


A King and His Guards

by Momma_Time



Series: Random Tumblr Crap [19]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Brotherly Love, Happy Ending, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, Multi, Royalty AU, also the rating, angst too yall, blood tw, death tw, kidnapped markus, let connor and rk900 be happy dammit, probably, royal au, tags will change, we'll see
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-22
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-07-15 16:37:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 17
Words: 26,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16067084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Momma_Time/pseuds/Momma_Time
Summary: Markus is kidnapped by Duchess Stern, the aunt of his twin guards. She has her own little plans, plans that include Markus, and eventually Connor, out of the picture.





	1. Plan for the Worst

**Author's Note:**

> This is kind of a gift for cyberlifesconnorisready and connorstwinkwink on Tumblr bc we were talking about Markus/Connor shipping and then this happened. I was going to keep it post-canon verse but I'm a hoe for royalty aus and so here we are.  
> The fic was also supposed to be a one-shot but we see how well that turned out. This'll likely be three parts, now that I'm thinking about it. Whoops. Why does this always happen to me? I try to type up a one-shot and boom. We get chapters. Save me.

It was like breaking through the water to reach the surface, a harsh and drastic change to your previous surroundings that leaves you gasping for breath. Except it hurt like hell, like someone hit him over the head with a boulder when he surfaced. Could he go back under to that floating nothingness? It would be leagues better than this.  
  
Markus opened his eyes slowly and winced against the light, dim as it was; the throbbing in the back of his skull increased, more painful now that he'd noticed it. Dammit. Ignorance would have been more pleasant.  
  
Where was he?  
  
His eyes struggled to adjust to the low light, but that didn't mean his nose couldn't pick up on what was here or wasn't. The stench of piss and shit hit him like a brick, and he recoiled. Sweat, death, stale air. The feel of stone beneath him was the final piece of the puzzle. He was in a cell, in some dungeon.  
  
Well, it could be worse. No, he shouldn't think that or he'll jinx it.  
  
Markus leaned back and rested his head against the cold stone behind him, basking in the small relief it brought him and tried to remember everything. He was out on a hunt with two of his guards. The twins were trailing behind him as he took off on his horse with a whoop of laughter. He hated being cooped up in the castle; Markus loved the work and loved his people, but the king needed a day off now and then, and dammit he was too young not to enjoy himself a little.  
  
He managed to shake them for a few moments, let them catch up, and then did it again; it was a game of cat and mouse, one that he enjoyed merely because he got to see Nicholas' expression battle between amusement and annoyance at his king's antics, while his older brother Connor was enjoying every moment of it openly. They both cared for their king, of course, and neither would wish harm on him. They wouldn't have chosen to be part of his personal guard over the profession their family had picked out for them if they didn't like their king.  
  
If he hadn't lost them that one time, hadn't strayed too far, had paid attention to his surroundings and how his mount was getting nervous, maybe he wouldn't be stuck in this situation.  
  
He ran the possible suspects for his imprisonment. Who wanted him out of the way? Countless, but who could pull it off? After pondering on the list for a few minutes, a feeling of dread washed over him. The twins' aunt, the duchess. Of anyone, she was the most ruthless and would want everyone out of the way so one of her nephews could take the throne. And with Connor being the eldest, it was supposed to be his throne to succeed, not Nicholas'. But she'd never made it a secret for her favoritism of Nicholas over Connor, however, and Markus wouldn't put it passed her to get Connor out of the way to ensure Nicholas took the throne.  
  
Was Nicholas in on this too? Or was she acting without his knowledge?  
  
"I wondered when you'd wake, pet." Markus startled and whipped his head around to stare at his jailer, ignoring the dizziness and nausea. The duchess was smiling, an almost motherly, soft turn of the lips; he saw right through it, the sharp edges behind its appearance of peace and kindness. "I was beginning to wonder if my men had taken it too far. I'm pleased to see their actions followed my orders to the "T." Too bad I fired them prematurely." Like hell were they fired. Maybe literally, at the stake. Heaven help him if that was to be his fate too.  
  
Markus faked a pleasant smile. "Lady Stern, how good to see you. I hope you're well."  
  
"I have been better, but things will improve soon enough."  
  
It took him a second to formulate a response, one that he hoped didn't sound desperate. He knew that the duchess would likely see through it, but there wasn't any other way for him to know. If she planned to kill him, she could let him have this, even if it hurt.  
  
"Do they know?"  
  
"No. And while you're missing, Connor will be appointed as the regent until they're sure you're dead. It will then be official."  
  
"Connor won't be the king for long, will he?"  
  
The woman's smile visibly turned cruel. "No, sadly. The boy will likely die from an accident, and then his poor brother will have to lead on his own. He'll be heartbroken, of course. Emotions are a fickle thing, but he's always been the more controlled of the two. Connor acts on emotion in the worst of times, a weak trait for a leader. Nicholas would be more level-headed in his decision making."  
  
That drew a laugh from Markus, catching the woman off guard who stared at him like he had grown a second head. Why on Earth would this man be laughing at a time like this, knowing she planned to ruin everything for him and the twins? She'd just told him everything and yet he's just...almost giggling.  
  
"You don't know your nephews very well then. Connor is indeed the more visibly emotional of the two, but Nicholas is unpredictable when he's distressed. Threaten Connor, hurt him, and Nicholas will be useless to you. You can't have one without the other." He could at least try to save Connor this way. It wasn't much, and the odds of it working were slim to none, but Markus knew he wasn't wrong.  
  
Nicholas was like a squall, sudden, cold and dangerous, quick with his fury. Cross a line, and you'd be lucky to catch a glimpse of him before you're greeting your maker in the most painful way imaginable. Connor was more like a thunderstorm. He was still unpredictable when he wished to be, still incredibly dangerous, but it was more tempered, slower, despite it being fueled by his emotions. His anger was quieter, a low rumbling of danger before you were struck with whatever deadly force he wielded at the time. You could see it coming, but you couldn't stop it.  
  
When it came to leading, Nicholas could be cold and would forget the softer side of the people's needs, their desire and hope for a better future. Connor would neglect the harsher reality of leadership, too focused on his bleeding heart for those under him.  
  
Neither of them had the temperament to lead without the other. They needed each other to function, needed to be a unit to survive, for the kingdom to survive.  
  
If only the two could share the throne and take care of the duties that they knew they'd excel at rather than one or the other. It would do more good for the country that way and—he shouldn't be thinking about this like it'll actually happen. It wouldn't do his mind any good.  
  
The duchess seemed to consider it, trying to piece together how she could make it work for her own good. The frown was replaced with a smirk, "I think I can solve that problem, but thank you for your concern. It would be sweet if it weren't misplaced. Do you have any idea how long I've worked for this? Since you three were boys playing in the gardens, this is one of many ways to how things would play out from the beginning."  
  
Markus huffed a laugh at that, "And you have it all figured out, do you?"  
  
"Of course. I've had over two decades to work this out, to plan for any mishap. There are no points that can be exploited, not this time."  
  
"Then you really don't know your nephews very well. You're underestimating their intelligence, drive, and creativity."  
  
"I have not underestimated anything," she snapped. "I have already tipped the scales in the outcome of their relationship. They will be too distracted to find you, too busy blaming the other for your disappearance and, later on, death. Drive a wedge between them and everything else will run smoothly."  
  
"Lady Stern, perhaps you weren't listening. They can't live without the other, alive and unharmed. Pitting them against one another will leave them angry and bitter, but it won't create feelings of hatred or disgust like you think it will. They'll still fall apart if you try to force them. Again, it's useless and will only harm your chances of pulling strings from the shadows."  
  
"Then I'll train the emotion out of Nicholas before his brother dies." She shrugged. "Not a problem. If what you say is true, then I will have my servants clean up a special cell for him. He won't like it, he'll hate me for a short time, but he'll come to understand its importance and that I only do it out of love. Don't worry your pretty head, Markus."  
  
Torture. She was going to torture Nicholas, and it turned his stomach to think of what would happen. Would it be physical or emotional and mental? With Stern, it would be all three and Markus couldn't live with himself knowing that this was Nicholas' future. Markus would be dead by that point, of course, but hell if it wouldn't haunt him for eternity.  
  
"You will still address me by my title, _Amanda_." In a cell that reeked of shit and piss or not, he was still the king, and he wouldn't let this slide, not with how shitty he was feeling now. He'd die with dignity, dammit.  
  
"No." With that, she left him alone in the darkness with his thoughts, heels gently clicking with her graceful departure.  
  
"Fucking hell," he whispered. Please let the twins be okay. He needed them to be okay, whether he made it out of here alive and in one piece or not. Markus wanted them to find him in time too, obviously, but he didn't want to leave them behind broken, a shell of the bright lights in his life that they were.  
  
He could pray. What more could he do while he waited for his fate?


	2. A New Role; Know Your Place

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This may be longer than three parts, like I'd hoped. Whoops.

“Connor, no. You can’t go out there now.” A hand fell on the now regent’s shoulder, gentle in its grip but holding fast. The young man in question shot his brother a dark look and tried to shake the hand from his shoulder.

“I’m not going to stand around, idle, while Markus is out there, a prisoner.” Or dead, but Connor didn’t want to think about that. “I will help find him, and you can’t stop me. It’s my fault he’s missing in the first place!”

Nicholas’ expression was soft, one that he only used in private with Connor or the king. When surrounded by others, his stoic presence was meant to intimidate, to ensure that people understood that any threats to the king would be dealt with immediately and painfully. Connor could seem just as stern, but with his softer edges, it wasn’t as easy to be taken seriously if one had never met the man.

“Connor, you can’t. I know you’re worried, but it’s not your fault this happened. I am just as guilty of losing him, but we must remember that he chose to make us chase him down when he knows it’s dangerous to do so.” He took a breath to steady himself before continuing. “As regent, you must remain here so you can lead the kingdom until we find the king. Your position of power is useless to all of us if you’re harmed. I’m sorry.”

Connor bit back the comment he wanted to shout at his brother, that Nicholas only wanted to play hero for the sake of winning Markus, but that wouldn’t be fair of him. It wasn't something he could afford to do to his brother, and thinking it was just as bad as saying it. So he didn't voice it. Nicholas stayed with him, waited until Connor was ready to speak again.

“So you’ll be with the search party?” he finally asked. If nothing else, Markus would be able to see a friendly face when he was rescued; it would put the king at ease to have at least one of them there.

“I can’t either. I’m part of the royal guard and need to remain here to keep you out of trouble.” There was a hint of a smirk, a tiny twitch at the corner of his lips. "Someone has to."

“But you can’t protect Markus when we find him if you’re here. I’ll be fine with the guards we have.” This was killing him. “Markus needs one of us there when we find him. I’m sure it’ll help him.”

“Connor, I—”

“Uh-uh. No. Go with the search party and find Markus. You’re excellent at tracking. You have the best chance of being successful.”

Nicholas finally smiled, an awkward thing that he was unused to. “We both know that’s a lie. You’re better at that than I.”

“Piss off. You know I’m right.” It was unfair as kids when Nicholas was stronger, faster, and seemed smarter. Connor hated that one thing about him, that he couldn’t compete with his brother.

It wasn’t a concern now; they’d grown up and filled the shoes of their unique purposes. The heart and the stone, opposites that couldn’t exist without the other. The bitterness had long since been replaced with gratefulness and peace of mind. Nicholas envied Connor’s kindness, his optimism and how he could so easily set others at ease. It had its uses, outside of the social aspects. If they needed information from someone, who better than the man with the honest and kind face, the one who seemed so open and non-judgemental, the man who could charm anyone he wished with a few words? Making people divulge information didn't need fear and brute force to be successful.

Nicholas leaned forward and rested his forehead against his brother's, a hand coming up to rest protectively over the back of Connor’s neck. “I’ll come back with Markus in tow. Don’t worry.” He paused before smirking, “I’ll try not to accidentally woo him without you there to have a fighting chance.”

“Shut it!” Nicholas dodged the incoming swat aimed for his shoulder with a snort of laughter, noting the blush.

“Your crush on him is adorable.”

“So is yours on blondie but you’re so emotionally conste—”

“My lords, if I may interrupt?” The twins turned their attention to the man at the door of their quarters. Daniel. Nicholas’ smile fell back into cold stoicism before he had turned to address whoever was interrupting them. He motioned for Daniel to speak up.

“Lord Stern, the elder, you’re needed in the war room. The advisors wish to speak with you on, uh, how this is to work out until the king is returned to us.”

They shared a look between them, silently communicating. Based on the brothers' expressions, it was a private war. Connor seemed to have won when Nicholas sighed in exasperation.

“All right. Fine. I’ll go, but heaven help me if you get yourself killed while I’m gone…and don’t forget to—”

“Nicholas, out. Go find the king and don’t mother hen me.” Connor pointed at the door, expression stern enough to rival Nicholas’.

With a short nod, the younger left the room with more grace than a dancer. Another thing Connor quietly wished he could accomplish. When Nicholas was gone, he turned his attention to Daniel, who was still at the door waiting for him.

“Allow me to change into something more suitable for their tastes, and then lead on, please.” And let’s get this part over with. He knew damn well what these people were going to say to him, that they would “gently” pressure him into this or that. Like hell would he be coerced into following their every suggestion. He knew them too well. Honestly, he wished Markus would replace them with a new circle of advisors instead of these selfish pricks. Why they were still here was beyond him, and he had half a mind of using his new role to find replacements. Markus may not be entirely pleased, but Markus wasn’t here to tell Connor what he could and could not do as regent.

Out of the fire and into the frying pan, it seemed. Daniel chose to stay in the room, as a more subtle guard until others could join them. He was kind enough to give Connor privacy while he changed into his more casual clothing, rather than remain in his armor. The soft blues and grays contrasted with his hair and eyes, something Markus had pointed out on several occasions, much to Connor's embarrassment and Nicholas and Markus' amusement. His brother usually wore black; as much as both the king and Connor wished he'd wear something else, perhaps a dark green or red, Nicholas insisted on the color, stating that it helped maintain his aloof and stoic aura.  
  
When he finished, he motioned for Daniel to take him to the advisors. He didn't like having guards following and leading them down the corridors. This wasn't his role; it shouldn't be him that needed protecting.  
  
He wanted Markus to be here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come talk to me on Tumblr at ixhadbadxdays  
> Give me prompts for fanfiction or original fiction. Give me that sweet, sweet validation that I crave.  
> Say hello.  
> Tell me about your day.  
> 


	3. Vulnerable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicholas and the beginnings of the hunt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh shit. I think I'm shipping Nines and Simon now. Someone help me.  
> The poll still stands as is, however.

Nicholas was tired. He didn't get an ounce of sleep the night before, and he already had insomnia. It wouldn't help him find Markus if he didn't get a nap or something. Honestly, he was worried that the handicap would get him or the others in the search party hurt, or killed; he worried for Markus' safety. He didn't know how he would fare if Markus died, if he and Connor had failed him.  
  
He didn't blame his brother at all; Nicholas thought that it was more his fault. He was the one who bent over backward to do absolutely anything to keep the king and his brother safe. Connor took his job seriously, but he was prone to distraction. Nicholas should have put a stop to Markus' horseplay, but he didn't. Nicholas didn't have the pleasure to see the king relax and enjoy himself often; the man tried to work himself into an early grave, Nicholas was sure of it.  
  
But his king truly _cared_ for the people, more than Nicholas or Connor could ever hope to. Markus' predecessors couldn't hold a candle to what the king had done since taking the throne. None of them had tried so damn hard to fight for equality, safety, and the peace of mind that you would make it another day and that there was always hope. He'd rooted out corruption to the best of his ability and remained vigilant in the aftermath. Who among them would be able to say the same of their accomplishments?  
  
Shaking his head to rid himself of his thoughts, he pressed on towards where he and Connor had last seen the king, where they found his horse, dead. The creature hadn't suffered, at least. Not from what Nicholas could tell.  
  
"Messer, may I speak freely?"  
  
Nicholas turned his attention to one of the men under his command, a soldier he trusted with the king's life if he and Connor were indisposed. Simon had always been steadfast in his belief of Markus' leadership and had followed him faithfully when Markus led the coup. His undying hope for what Markus could do, what Markus stood for, was what prompted Nicholas into trusting the man.  
  
After receiving a nod, Simon continued. "Mar--the king, won't blame you for this situation, you or Lord Stern. He...cares too much to do so."  
  
He didn't want to talk about this. "Simon--"  
  
"No. Please, ser."  
  
With a quiet sigh, Nicholas focused on the path ahead of them and fell silent, allowing the man at his side to continue. "None of us blame you either. I swear to you, we would follow you and your brother with the same loyalty we've shown the king if it came to that."  
  
"It won't come to that. The king is alive, and we will bring him home safe and in one piece. Don't speak of him as if it's too late," he snapped. Breathe. The king wouldn't want him to take out his frustration on the men. They don't deserve it. "I apologize for my--rudeness."  
  
"Forgiven, Nicholas." Simon's lips were turned up on one side, subtle enough to be missed if you weren't looking for it. Nicholas saw the fondness in it and felt himself relaxing. Of the men, Simon could calm him if he did begin to cross a line. Always relaxed, always soft-spoken, always fighting with everything he had in him and then some.  
  
"What I am trying to say, is that none of us will turn our backs on you and your brother for what's happened. The king...knew he shouldn't. He can be a handful when he wishes." His smile was more pronounced, wry and teasing. "We love you both just the same as we always have." One slip up wouldn't cause them to distrust the twins and their leadership.  
  
Nicholas didn't respond at first. It warmed him to know that his men cared deeply for him and Connor, that they'd follow them to the ends of the earth if it came to it. Depending on where Markus was, they may have to do just that.  
  
He motioned for Simon to fall back and let the others lead for a moment so he could speak softly. He wasn't warm and fuzzy with his men, but he did care and show his gentleness in his own way, in how he checked on them after a problem was resolved to ensure that they were taken care of. That was the only vulnerability he showed them, usually.  
  
"Simon, I'll admit that I'm...scared. I fear what'll happen if we don't find Markus in time, of what could happen to Connor if he's forced to become king. He can refuse, of course, but he'll be a target regardless. Which then puts me in the spotlight and I hate being the center of attention. I can't do my job unless it's from the background. Being so open, visible...it's not for me. I don't want to lose Markus, and I don't want to lose Connor." Like any other moments of vulnerability, he didn't show it to anyone but his brother and the king. Simon, sharing something like his fears to someone outside of the two, it was odd.  
  
Simon's expression softened, and his smile fell. "I...understand, I think. Or I'm trying to understand. I don't want to lose him or Connor. And I certainly don't want to lose you. You've been good for us, for me. I was a simple medic during the war, and you and Connor took me in and trained me for this. I don't want to lose that. You're my rock in the chaos, and my peace. If it gets ugly, I would want you and your brother at my side through it all above anyone else. You keep me right."  
  
Nicholas, for the first time in a while, felt his stiff posture soften, relax into a near slouch, at that. A caregiver to the end. The thought warmed him; he needed a reminder that someone cared. "Thank you, Simon. I, um, I don't know how to--"  
  
Simon held up a hand to stop him, smiling softly. "I understand. The thank you is more than enough."  
  
After a moment of silence with the two staring at one another, a smile on Simon's face and a softer affect on Nicholas', Simon motioned ahead of them. "If you would like to lead us again, ser, we would appreciate it."


	4. Be Prepared for the Worst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smackdown between Fowler and Reed.  
> Daniel is a blessing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Ra9 is just Ranine. Pronounce it however you want but w/e. We're all here for the ride and I ain't the driver either so we'll see how it goes. lol

Connor ran a hand through his hair, breathing deeply through his nose. He wished Nicholas was here. Someone familiar would be enough to ease his anxiety. As it was, Daniel would do just fine. The advisors told him that Daniel was not to be part of the meetings, but Connor knew he needed to put his foot down now so they wouldn't try to use him as a mud room from the get-go. So, he decided to insist that Daniel stay for the meeting as one of his own advisors, a stand-in.

"I would prefer to have my cultural attaché, one that is set apart from your own invaluable council to afford me an outside view of the state of this kingdom, to ensure there is someone to represent the laymen."

Lord Reed scoffed at that and leaned back in his seat, legs spreading wide to take up more space. If he thought that that would intimidate Connor, or Daniel, for that matter, he would need to try harder than that. Connor was a soldier first, an heir and diplomat second. Daniel was merely an immovable object when he wanted to be; his stubborn streak was larger than the day was long. "You don't need any more advisors, Lord Stern. We are enough to serve that purpose."

Could he punch him? Connor wanted to hit him. Maybe as regent, he could get away with wiping the smug look off his face. "And I have decided to add one more, Lord Reed, and you will welcome him as one of your own as you will be working closely together until the king is returned to us. My decision is final on the matter. Am I understood?"

"You're not our king, and you don't have a say in what happens to a glorified steward an--"

"His _Highness_  is now the _Prince_  Regent, which makes him king in all but name. He is given the same power as King Markus until the king is able to lead us once again." General Fowler didn't look at Connor, but the glare he aimed at Reed was enough to kill a man. "So you will address him with the respect that his position demands from now on or I will escort you out myself."

Connor could kiss him. He and Fowler were never close, but they had enough mutual respect for one another due to their stations that Connor could count on him to get his back about seventy percent of the time. Maybe he could convince Markus to give the man a new title or something when he got back.

"Thank you, General Fowler." He gestured for Daniel to take a seat at the table and moved to the end to sit where Markus usually would. Should he even take his place? Markus wasn't dead, and Connor wasn't wholly the king. Sitting there, in the king's chair, would feel too much like there was no hope for bringing Markus back alive. He couldn't bear the thought without it turning his stomach. Without saying anything, Connor took the seat directly to the right of Markus'.

"Con-Excuse me, your...highness, shouldn't you be in--"

"No. The king is not dead, and I will not take a seat that is not officially mine until we have news that he is deceased, which we don't." It hurt to think about, but he kept his expression neutral for the sake of saving face. He had to take a page out of Nicholas' book and remain aloof for now, until he established his authority among the others before he softened to his usual self. Later, Daniel would tell him that he would have confused Connor for Nicholas if it weren't for the eyes; he had grown so stoic and cold at the drop of a hat that it was startling to him and the others.

Connor didn't know if he should take that as a compliment or not.

Fowler decided to start. "First things first, your highness. We have a segment of our soldiers searching for Markus while diplomats are trying to compile a list of suspects from allies and enemies alike. The rest of our military is now readying for war, just in case any findings of this search comes up with an aggressive opponent."

War. Connor hadn't needed to worry about that since the coup. Why couldn't things be simple? _Dammit, Markus. Don't leave ~~me~~ us again._

"I will defer to your judgment, but my brother and I would agree that preparing our defenses should come first. They'll expect us to be weak in morale and numbers with the king missing and strike at the first opportunity." Strategy. He and his brother were generally excellent in their judgment, but with how emotional and exhausted he was, Connor wasn't sure how well he could lead the military without allowing Fowler more control. However, how much could he give him without it making him weak and--ugh. He needed more time to prepare for this.

"I agree, but we can't not prepare to attack. Perhaps allocate at least thirty percent to prepare for aggressive measures?"

Connor was silent for a moment, staring down at the parchment before him. After a moment, he took hold of his pen and began to scribble out numbers and keywords for various ideas to go forward. "Make it thirty-five, and those that remain shall be assigned defense. They'll need to be more ah, vigilant for the surrounding areas for anyone who tries to come in undetected. This is...one of those times paranoia could save the kingdom if it comes to that."

There was silence before Reed spoke up, "If that's settled, then we need to discuss how this will be presented to the people."

Fucking hell. He didn't want to think about how they were to tell the people that he was the regent because the king was missing. He tapped the nib of his pen on the parchment, watching as a messy blot grew beneath it. Should the council tell the public he's missing? Or that he's unwell? The last thing he wanted to do was lie to them, but they needed the people to think that there was hope in case there was an attack. However, either way, not having their king there, the man who led them to victory, indisposed, would dampen their spirits and more.

Connor glanced at Daniel, meeting his gaze. Thoughts? Connor's eyes asked.

"The king is...away, and His Royal Highness, the Prince Regent Stern, will be leading us for a short time until his majesty returns. If it's brought up that his highness is meant to be guarding the king, simply remind the people that he is next in line and is filling the role of regent, as he would be even without being part of the royal guard." Ranine, bless Daniel for saving this one.

"We can iron out details. I don't want them to think that I am a permanent replacement when his majesty is still alive." It wasn't a matter of 'if' to Connor. Markus had to be alive; he couldn't be lost now. Ranine help him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keeping up with addressing royals and the like is a pain in the ass. Why did I think that this was a good idea?  
> Daniel AND Simon are the bros we all need in our lives.  
> I almost called Connor Anderson instead of Stern. Whoops. The fandom has ruined his last name for me. XD
> 
> I'm updating the poll [ here ](https://linkto.run/p/FUQ3WIRX) so that it includes Nicholas/Simon because chapter 3 has me questioning myself??? You can vote with more than one answer.


	5. You Are My Sunshine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm not going to bother with a summary because this damn chapter title speaks for itself. Good luck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look, I'm not sorry but please don't be mad at me.  
> I'm writing this as I go, just watching the poll I posted. So who knows, things could change from here but yeah. Enjoy the pain, y'all.

"Have you found anything yet?" Simon called.  
  
"Simon, I swear on my grave, I will tell you when I find something usable." Nicholas was ready to throw himself off a cliff. Simon was trying to keep his mind off of his worries, but it was keeping Nicholas from focusing on finding usable information in the area Markus was kidnapped from. "Please just...let me focus for five minutes without you interrupting m--"  
  
"Nicholas, get over here!"  
  
Deep breaths. Breathe, or he may break and scream at the sky or the nearest soldier; that wouldn't save his carefully constructed façade. His men would still respect him, hopefully, but he needed to ensure his image held. Once he was sure he wouldn't snap at anyone and schooled his features, Nicholas wandered over to where Simon had called for him.  
  
The young man was kneeling and waving Nicholas over, "I didn't touch it because I know how you are about that, but I found the pack he normally keeps on him. It was buried, but--"  
  
"Based on its position and how far it is from the horse, they took him--"  
  
"That way," they said together. Well, it's a start, and a start was enough to raise both of their spirits. At least a little.  
  
They smiled at one another and straightened. Simon tossed Markus' pack over his shoulder for safekeeping, and the pair were off. Simon let Nicholas lead, but he put just as much effort into looking for more signs of which direction the king was taken. Manmade prints were mixed with those of the wildlife, and it threw them for a few minutes, but eventually, they were going in the right direction again...they hoped.  
  
"I wish we could go hunting together more often, under better circumstances, of course."  
  
Nicholas' lips twitched at that. "As friendly competition or simply for bonding?"  
  
"Why not both, messer?" Simon teased, pausing in his steps to check something before hurrying to catch up.  
  
"Simon, when it's just us, you don't have to use honorifics and titles."  
  
Simon lightly nudged his friend, smirking. "And if I like doing so, sir?"  
  
"Then I'll put you on latrine duty for a month," Nicholas countered quickly, fighting back the blush that he knew was creeping up his neck.  
  
"You would do that to me? Sir, that's cruel, even for you."  
  
Nicholas stopped to look at Simon. The man had a stray lock of blond hair sticking up, along with a small smudge of mud where he'd accidentally rubbed his face after touching something. And somehow, this goofball got his medical certifications and passed training under Nicholas and Connor. The man was a mess. A beautiful mess with the light that speckled the forest through the trees haloing him, seemingly turning him into some kind of damn angel. Fuck. No. Nicholas was the man's superior, and he was supposed to be above such things. "You uh, have a little something there, Simon."  
  
Simon wiped at it and managed to get most of it off. He grimaced and, huffing, raised the collar of his shirt to wipe the rest off. "How long have I looked like that?"  
  
"I have no idea."  
  
"Liar. You know damn well how long that was on my face."  
  
Nicholas turned away, feeling smug as he called the time over his shoulder. "Twelve minutes and fifty-two seconds."  
  
"You're an ass."  
  
He only hummed and kept going, continuing the search. Nicholas needed to focus, and he was allowing himself to be distracted by the antics of a friend. Distractions and "antics" were what landed them all in this mess.  
  
There was soft padding to his left, a rustling of the brush covering the forest floor. Nicholas kept moving but glanced in its direction from the corner of his eyes. Too heavy and clumsy to be a deer or squirrel. If it were an animal, the closest thing would be a wolf or bear, but they were quieter than that. Whoever it was, wasn't used to sneaking around outside.  
  
Nicholas drew his hand back and made a subtle gesture to Simon to warn him of an attack. Simon didn't falter in his steps, but Nicholas heard him adjusting his weight to brace himself. Another gesture; three people. One left, two right.  
  
He paused in his steps, kneeling as if to look at something but moving his hands to draw his sword and shield at a moment's notice. A snap to the right and Nicholas and Simon backed up to one another, swords drawn. Nicholas hated baring his front like this while he tugged at his shield. Dammit. They should have already had these ready. And while Simon could fight with the best of them, he was meant to be their support, not their defense or offense. Nicholas grabbed Simon's hand behind him, the empty one, and passed the shield to him. Of the two of them, he needed Simon to survive this. He could patch up Nicholas when it was over, and Simon was alive and well.  
  
The attack was swift, and the pair fought off the three attackers. Nicholas got a look at the crest on their armor as he ran one through the gut with a grunt of effort. There was no way in hell. These had to be bandits who had stolen the armor, or his eyes were playing tricks on him, and the crest just looked similar to--  
  
There was a yelp behind him, and Nicholas whirled around to help Simon, relieved to find that it was the enemy and not his friend. They dispatched the three in seconds, thank Ranine for that. There was a moment where they could only hear their breathing, harsh pants that seemed deafening in the quiet of the forest. Soon, the pair could hear their men in the distance calling for them and hurrying to the source of the noise.  
  
"Nicholas, are you okay?"  
  
He looked down at himself and the mess around them and sighed. "Thankfully, yes. Are you okay, Simon?"  
  
His friend hummed in affirmation, cleaning his sword off on his pants before sheathing it. "I'm just glad you're not dead, honestly."  
  
"I'm more worried about you."  
  
"You're making me blush, kid. Knock it off." Simon laughed and passed the shield back to Nicholas, but the man didn't put it away just yet. Paranoia told him to wait a few more minutes before he let his guard down.  
  
Nicholas watched Simon kneel to inspect one of the dead attackers, a frown appearing on the blond's face and only deepening once he recognized the crest. "Nicholas? Is this--?"  
  
"Yes. I don't recognize these men, however. They could be bandits or mercenaries who stole the gear from her men." Simon heard the uncertainty in Nicholas' voice, the sound of Nicholas trying to convince himself.  
  
"Nicholas, I'm not going to pin you as--"  
  
"Simon, this can't be right. It can't be her or--"  
  
"Nicholas! Breathe a second, would you? We don't know that it's her, but this does make her a suspect now. And it does link you and Connor to this...You know how this looks. I trust you. Your men trust you. The council will turn on you both if they see this, assuming the worst."  
  
Nicholas rubbed at his face, growling quietly to himself. What the fuck was he supposed to do now? He had to go back and tell Connor about this. The last thing they needed was for the council and the people to think that they wanted this to happen. Nicholas stopped his pacing--when did he start pacing?--and knelt to try and rip off the crest from the front of the armor, hoping that it was something fake and placed there to hide someone else's crest, but he knew damn well that it was false hope and that he was grasping for anything but what he feared.  
  
"Simon, I don't know what to do." His voice was small, quiet as he felt the hard-won walls he built up beginning to crumble.  
  
There was a gasp behind him, followed by a whimper. He turned quickly to see an arrow sticking out of Simon's side. Simon seemed just as shocked as Nicholas.  
  
"Simon...fuck. Simon!" He bolted to his friend, only for hands to grab him from behind. "No! Simon! Let me go!"  
  
He tried to fight against them, tried to rip himself away so he could get to the man before him that fell to his knees. The red spreading from where the arrow pierced him through the side of his armor was growing quickly. Simon looked like he was in pain, in agony as he fell to his side and squirmed with it. Simon's hand clutched at the wound around the arrow in a fruitless attempt to stop the bleeding. There were tears on his cheeks, shining in the light that had all but shone on him like a beacon from the heavens themselves only minutes before. He was staring at Nicholas, faint whimpering escaping him between the moments he could get Nicholas' name out. He was pleading, begging for them to let Nicholas go. Even in his dying moments, he was looking out for the younger man.  
  
It only made Nicholas fight harder against the hands that were dragging him back. "Nonononono! No! Let me go you fucking bastards! No, Simon, please!"  
  
Nicholas could feel the hold on him weakening, and just when he thought he would be able to free himself, there was a sharp pain on the back of his head. The last thing he saw was Simon, eyes closed and hand still outstretched where it had fallen to the forest floor lifelessly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe this damn thing was only supposed to be three chapters. The hell is this monster?


	6. How Much Longer?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey there, neighbor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm half asleep as I'm writing this and there are probably mistakes. Whoops.
> 
> I'll probs come back and edit this one after work tomorrow, but I've read this chapter about five times now, trying to make sure everything looks okay.

Markus was roused from his sleep by a door slamming open. He had wedged himself in a far corner and curled up the best he could, upright. The fighter in him made it difficult to just lay out on the floor. Besides, with the stench of this place, he didn't want his face anywhere near it.  
  
Leaning forward for a better look, Markus noted the light streaming in through the doorway at the top of the stairs, along with two sets of footsteps. They were...dragging something, or someone, based on the shadows cast across the floor and walls. Once the three came into view, he felt his heart stop. Fuck. Was that Connor or Nicholas? He couldn't tell from here and...an empty sheath at the man's waist? Nicholas. Connor preferred knives and bows to a sword and shield, not that he couldn't use them, but everyone had their own way of fighting that suited them.  
  
He can remember getting his ass kicked by Connor in close quarters more times than he cared to admit. The man was quick, light on his feet and graceful, despite his height and his protests of clumsiness; he was indeed a sight to behold. And his brother, while skilled with them, preferred a more reserved form of brute force when it was time to attack. His own strategy was just as deadly and almost as quick in its punishment as Connor's.  
  
Markus was grateful that they were on the same side.  
  
But was it wrong of him to feel relief that it wasn't Connor?  
  
Yes, it was. Because Markus knew what this meant. Connor was on the throne, and Nicholas needed to be "trained" into an emotionless husk of a man. He felt bile rise in his throat at the thought of what awaited the young man in his _special_ cell. The duchess' plan was moving into the next phase; she needed to groom Nicholas into her puppet while Connor ruled the kingdom.  
  
Markus wondered how long Nicholas would last before she broke him.  
  
Connor had as much time left to live as Nicholas had the strength to resist Stern's cruelty. For Connor's sake, he hoped Nicholas could hold out until they were found, but he hoped that it wouldn't be long before they were rescued. Nicholas was a good man and cared deeply, if quietly, but the hardened shell he crafted around himself was going to ruin him if shattered.  
  
Another thought had ice running down his spine from the terrible realization. If Nicholas was here, how much longer did Markus have? Stern had everyone in place, right where she wanted them. Markus held no purpose now unless she wanted to make his life a living hell before she finally had mercy and killed him. This was not how he wanted to go.  
  
He pushed himself to his feet and staggered to the cell door, watching as they dragged Nicholas inside the room set aside for him. The rattling of chains could be heard from inside where they were securing him to the wall, or the floor, or...something.  
  
The two guards stepped back into the hallway, shutting and locking the door behind them. There were no bars, no windows, just a solid wall of stone and iron. He wouldn't be able to see Nicholas, and Nicholas couldn't see him; would they at least be able to talk to one another? Ranine, he hoped so.  
  
The door at the top of the stairs didn't close once the two men left, and another shadow fell over the area. Soft clicks of delicate heels and the rustle of fabric could be heard before the duchess came into view. Markus watched how she stared at Nicholas' cell door, but couldn't tell if there were any signs of regret or...something that would make her seem more human. Not at first.  
  
There was absolutely nothing redeemable to be found in her expression.  
  
Well, now he knew where Nicholas learned the flat affect; the coldness in his eyes had to be inherited from somewhere. At least Markus knew that there was kindness and warmth behind them, that it was an act. This woman didn't feel a thing.  
  
When she finished studying Nicholas' door, she turned to Markus and strode to his cell. "It looks like you have a neighbor, your majesty. I was worried you'd get lonely down here."  
  
"How can I be lonely, Lady Stern, when you're here to visit with me?"  
  
"A clever, silver tongue you have there, sire. Perhaps that's why the people follow you. Such pretty but hollow words."  
  
His false smile never fell, "They have more meaning to them than you seem to believe, madam, because I am capable of compassion and empathy."  
  
The woman laughed and tapped her fingers against one of the bars to his cell, "You're a funny one, it's almost charming. I wish we could have had more chats like this, just the two of us. Perhaps we could have been friends."  
  
"For all of three seconds before I died from poison in my tea? I think I'll pass."  
  
Her smile tightened around the edges. "Poison? Oh, no dear. That would be too obvious. Arranging accidents are far more useful. Such as what happened to Nicholas and his men. Mercenaries in stolen armor, bearing the Stern crest? That will send them on a rabbit hunt, looking for the base of these heartless, evil men who wish to harm the innocent for their own amusement."  
  
Nicholas' men were hurt then, or dead. Which meant Simon was gone. That was going to kill Daniel when he found out, and be one of the tipping points for Nicholas when he woke and the duchess began her reconditioning. Who else was part of that group? It was a search party, surely. Markus counted off at least four others he knew that would have been with Nicholas, searching for Markus.  
  
"Fucking hell," he breathed, feeling the color drain from his face. Friends of theirs, all dead because they went looking for his reckless ass.  
  
"Tsk tsk, that isn't language fitting of a king, your majesty," the woman scolded with a small smirk.  
  
"You've just informed me that half of the people Connor, Nicholas, and myself care about are gone. I think I'm allowed this one slip up," he mumbled.  
  
There was a moment of silence, and Markus didn't know what the hell else she wanted from him. "I'm waiting on that one question, Markus. Indulge me."  
  
As much as he didn't want to, he held his head high and met her cold gaze. "How much longer?"  
  
"It's a surprise, my dear."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on what I'm seeing in the polls, y'all are getting Simon900.  
> It's on.


	7. Try and Stop Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey look, someone's not dead.  
> I almost titled this as "You Brother-Fucker..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I guess we're doing Connor/Markus and Simon/Nines.  
> Y'all happy?  
> Also, let men be affectionate without it being romantic!!!!! Let them cuddle and be emotional.

Everything hurt.  
  
But his side...it hurt even to breathe. Moving sent a jolt of pain down his side, like a fire that wanted to consume him from the inside out.  
  
When he managed to open his eyes, he found Joshua, his replacement as a court doctor and medic, standing by his bedside and carefully grinding something with his mortar and pestle. He was staring off into space, moving on instinct rather than acting consciously. There was something on the man's mind, besides making another salve or tincture. The repetitive, slow grinding of herbs was relaxing to watch, to hear, and Simon felt some of the initial fear of waking up in pain and in an unfamiliar place ebb away.  
  
Joshua felt Simon's eyes on him and glanced over his shoulder to find the injured man's eyes on him.  
  
"Welcome back to the land of the living, Simon," he said with a wry smile. "What's your pain?"  
  
It took him a second to remember Joshua's system, but once it came to him, he murmured, "Seven."  
  
"I've got more supplies for you in my office that should help that. One moment." He set his tools down and left Simon's bedside, coming back with a tray of things. "I'm going to pull the blankets down."  
  
Simon merely hummed and watched as the doctor gently removed the blankets to reach his side. It hurt like hell when he helped Simon sit up so he could remove the bandages. The medicine he spread over Simon's wound tore his breath from him, causing Simon to jerk away with a whine.  
  
"I know, I'm sorry. Almost done."  
  
Ugh. He knew those words, that tone; Simon used it himself on his own patients. It was his Doctor Voice, and he hated it when it was used on him.  
  
The application only took another minute, and then they had to wait for it to dry enough for Joshua to rewrap Simon's chest.  
  
"Is Nick okay? What happened to him?" Simon asked quietly. Joshua said nothing, but his hands hesitated before he continued his task. Simon didn't want to be ignored. He needed to know. "Josh. What happened? Where the hell is Nicholas?"  
  
Josh finished bandaging him and helped Simon to lay back down. "He's...missing. We don't know where, and Connor isn't allowed to leave to help the search. If it were anyone else, he or Nicholas could find the victim in no time but...we have to make do with who we have."  
  
Simon clenched his eyes shut, fists tightening in the sheets while he tried to breathe through it. Was it fury or anguish? He wasn't sure which he'd rather focus on; neither would do him or Nicholas any good. He let his head fall back onto his pillow with a sigh. "Fuck."  
  
First, Markus goes missing. And now Nicholas was gone. How in the hell were they going to fix this? Without their king, the people and soldiers wouldn't be able to rally the same way. Without Nicholas, they didn't have a back-up for Connor in case something happened to him while he was prince regent. "What happens now?"  
  
"Another search party was sent out, with their focus on finding Markus first. The rest of us wait. And you? You focus on healing." Joshua smiled faintly and gently nudged Simon's shoulder. "Besides, you don't want Nicholas to see you like this when he gets back, do you? Not exactly attractive right now with the greasy hair."  
  
"Shut it, Josh." He felt his cheeks darken a little and looked down at the bedsheets. "I don't care how I look when he's brought home. I just want him to come back."  
  
"I know." Joshua drew his hand up to Simon's cheek, smile fading into something painful, grief. No one wanted to lose their king or the heirs; the three helped get them to this point. "He'll come back. He and the king both. Now, sleep."  
  
\--  
  
When Simon woke again, Connor was sitting beside his bead, a lap desk dwarfing him while he worked on whatever duties were forced onto him. Connor, a man who always seemed so lively and youthful, looked like he'd aged several years over the last few days. Dark circles dragged at his eyes, causing him to look ragged. The red of his eyes betrayed his stoicism, that he'd been grieving over the news of his brother's disappearance, on top of Markus being gone.  
  
"Connor?"  
  
The man jumped, nearly dropping the desk and the parchment resting on them and scrambling to catch everything before they hit the floor. The ink couldn't be saved, sadly. "Simon? You scared the hell out of me..."  
  
"Sorry, your highness."  
  
Connor's expression twisted in disgust as he leaned over to clean up the mess. "Please don't. Not while it's just us."  
  
"Nicholas has said the same about the times I "sir" him. I never listen, and it drives him mad."  
  
"Please spare me the details of what gets him flustered."  
  
Simon snorted with laughter, and then it cut off immediately, wincing from the pain. "I never once said that your brother was into that. You did, however, Connor. What do you know that I don't? I may need it in the future."  
  
"No. Absolutely not. I will not discuss my brother's private interests. Leave me out of this one." There was a moment of silence before they started laughing, or, well, Connor did, but Simon didn't get much out before he needed to stop again.  
  
When they stopped and managed to calm down a little, Simon held out his hand and waited until Connor took it before speaking again. "We'll get them back, Connor."  
  
"Are you trying to convince me, or yourself?"  
  
He grimaced. "Both."  
  
Connor huffed out a laugh, squeezing his hand in a show of comfort. His smile fell almost immediately. "I don't...I can't lose either of them, Simon. And I feel terrible that I want to find Nicholas before we find Markus."  
  
"He's your brother. You two have always known one another before you ever met any of us. There's nothing wrong with wanting to keep your family safe," Simon assured him.  
  
"But I see Markus as family too. But if I could only save one of them, it wouldn't be him. It wouldn't be him, and that kills me." Simon saw the tears welling in Connor's eyes and did his best to scoot over on the bed, letting go of Connor's hand to pat the bed beside him. It winded him from the pain, but for the heir's sake, he managed. Connor took the silent invitation and set the desk to the side, and then he crawled onto the bed beside Simon.  
  
"You won't have to choose any time soon. I promise."  
  
"And what about you?"  
  
"I want Markus back too, but I would also pick your brother." Well, they could feel guilty about wanting to save someone besides the king first together.  
  
"You want to save the love of your life over the king, and I want to save my brother over the love of my life. What a pair we make." Naming Connor's love as the king went unsaid.  
  
Simon hummed quietly, resting his head on Connor's shoulder. All they could do now was pray and wait. "I saw them dragging him away, Connor, a-and I couldn't do anything to stop it. I'm sorry."  
  
"It's not your fault. You were, well, dying. My brother nor I will blame you for that." Connor raised his hand to run it through Simon's messy hair; his hair really did need a good wash after this, but it could wait.  
  
"Still. I've seen your brother smile, heard him laugh...but Connor, I've never seen him look so terrified," he whispered. That image was ingrained into his memory, something he'd never be able to forget, despite how badly he wanted to. Simon hoped he never had to see Nicholas look so scared, so stricken with grief and hopelessness again. To see a man who never showed fear and guarded his feelings closely look so broken was shattering.  
  
Connor turned his words around in his mouth before speaking. "He cares deeply for you. If I bring you up in conversation, he gets almost bashful. Nicholas was...scared of losing you, upset that he couldn't protect you and thought that you would die before he could administer aid to you. That he couldn't say goodbye to you if you didn't make it."  
  
Nicholas tried to hide everything, to keep his emotions and thoughts under wraps, but there were just some things that a person couldn't hide. Fear for someone they loved was one of those. Connor knew damn well that Nicholas thought he'd lost Simon, and still did.  
  
"But, Simon, think of the relief he'll feel when he comes back and sees you alive and well." Connor sighed and turned his head to kiss the crown of Simon's. "He won't need to fear for you again."  
  
"Ranine, I hope you're right, Connor."  
  
"When am I ever wrong?"  
  
"Well, remember that time when we were eighteen and you--"  
  
"Simon, you finish that sentence, and I will put an arrow in you myself."  
  
"You can't shoot straight to save yourself."  
  
"Who the fuck do you think taught you to shoot right?"  
  
"...North."  
  
"You fucker."  
  
"Not until your brother gets back."  
  
"Please, I'm begging you, stop it."  
  
The pair shared a smile, a tired and uneasy sort of thing, but it was better than letting themselves fall farther into despair.  
  
But something still bothered Simon. "Connor? The men that attacked us, that kidnapped your brother, they were wearing your family crest."  
  
Well, no one had told Connor that, if the look on his face was anything to go by. The realization, the cold fear that drained him of any color, was almost as unsettling as watching Nicholas before Simon fainted. After a second to process it, the fear and doubt turned into anger, like someone fed and nurture embers until they burst into a furious flame.  
  
"I think I need to pay my aunt a visit, Simon."  
  
"If you go, don't meet with her without the entirety of the military, Connor. You kn--"  
  
"I know what she's like, yes." And the woman wouldn't walk away from a confrontation if Connor found that she was the source of their pain and misery. The only question he wanted answered was "why?" What did she have to gain from something like this? Getting someone from her family on the throne, yes. That put Connor here, but he didn't understand why she would take Nicholas. The closest thing she came to feeling "love" was her twisted fondness for his younger twin. She wouldn't kidnap him just out of the blue.  
  
"We need to get to Markus first if she's involved. There's a timer set for him, and we won't have long if my aunt has him."  
  
Simon could only nod. It begins.  
  
"You need more proof than the words of your men and myself."  
  
"Me suggesting that my aunt is involved at all should be enough. Her own nephew coming forward with an accusation? It would be stupid of me to say something like that if I wasn't sure."  
  
"But it puts a target on you. If you know it's her, who's to say you haven't known from the beginning? The council will question your motive more than hers if you say anything without concrete proof," Simon countered.  
  
"Then we'll just have to get our hands on whatever is left of where you both were attacked."  
  
"But you're not allowed to leave the castle until progress has been made on finding them."  
  
Connor snorted, "Has that ever stopped me? I can slip out at night to get it and take a small detail of our men. I won't tell them, just show up at their doors on my way out."  
  
"You're an idiot."  
  
"I know. But if she wants me on the throne for now, she can't touch me. I've got a small window of safety before whatever she has planned happens."  
  
"You're still an idiot, and your brother and Markus would strangle you if they knew."  
  
"I just need someone with the crest on them. How many of them did you and my brother kill?"  
  
"Three."  
  
"That's two more than I need."  
  
"Connor, please don't."  
  
"The last time someone told me not to do something, they were kidnapped, and my friend was shot with an arrow. I'm going to take action, Simon."   
  
"And if I tell someone?"  
  
Connor was already hopping off of the bed and gathering his things, but he paused to look back at Simon. "Then you tell them, but I'm going out there, and I'm going tonight."  
  
"Please don't die, Connor. We need you alive too."  
  
The prince regent didn't reply as he hurried out of the clinic. He had things to do to prepare for that night.


	8. Shackled Sorrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicholas is dealing with the loss of Simon and Amanda is a bitch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got distracted with Soft Nines prompts but I got this chapter finished. Finally.  
> I think Markus' POV is next? Idk, we'll see.
> 
> Pour a cold one out for my sanity.

Simon was dead.  
  
That was his first thought upon waking. Blue eyes, filled with pain and horror, all for Nicholas rather than himself, was haunting him and he'd only just woken up.  
  
Simon couldn't be gone. Not him. Nicholas couldn't lead their men without Simon's steady presence. Simon kept him balanced, and who could he confide in when it wasn't something he wanted to discuss with Connor? Who would chide him for being a grump with a wry smile? Who would help Nicholas remain steady in the face of regret or fear? For whom else would Nicholas purposefully trip himself to get the person who held his heart to laugh?  
  
"Shit." He'd failed to keep Simon alive, and with Nicholas stuck here, he couldn't even bury him, couldn't say goodbye, couldn't brush his fingertips over a lightly stubbled cheek. No closure, no peace.  
  
No Simon.  
  
Nicholas slammed the side of his fist against the floor beside him, biting his lip to hold back a sob; he could feel his chin quaking with the effort and sucked in air with a gasp. If he ever got out of this hellish nightmare, Nicholas wanted to track down the archer who shot Simon and rip them apart as painfully as possible. They'd taken Simon from him, and taken Nicholas from Simon in his last moments; Simon died alone out there, helplessly watching as Nicholas was dragged away kicking and screaming.  
  
A broken whine escaped him, and Nicholas slapped a hand over his mouth to silence it. He didn't want his jailors to know how much this hurt and how lost he felt. Connor would know what to say and how to help him through it. Connor would likely hold Nicholas close and let him cry it out, silent so that Nicholas could say or do whatever he needed to grieve safely.  
  
Does Connor even know if Nicholas is alive? Finding out that he was gone was going to hurt Connor more than the loss of Markys already had. Lost the king, and now he believed that he'd lost his brother. Nicholas wasn't sure how Connor could lead the people in the state he could be in. The advisors were like a pit of vipers, and Nicholas could only hope that they wouldn't strike him while this chaos was occurring. Daniel would likely try to shield him, but that wouldn't work forever; Daniel could only do so much before it further convinced the council that Connor was unfit to lead.  
  
Markus was going to die if he hadn't already.  
  
Simon was dead.  
  
Connor could be killed next.  
  
And Nicholas didn't know why the hell he was brought here or how much longer he would be alive.  
  
There was a noise to his right, and he turned his gaze to the door where he could hear someone unlocking it. In stepped two guards with lamps in hand and his aunt right behind them. He'd forgotten about the Stern family crest, how it must have been his aunt behind all of this. She was the one who was at fault for Simon's death, for Markus' kidnapping--or death. She's why he was stuck here.  
  
Nicholas cleaned his face of tears, sniffed, and then wiped whatever emotions he was wearing before she walked in from his face. He hadn't fixed it in time; Amanda knew that he'd been crying and that the emotionless, deadened expression he was presenting her with was a lie.  
  
"I haven't seen you cry since you were a little boy, skinning your knees on the cobblestone paths in the garden." Amanda strode forward and knelt in front of him, taking hold of his chin to force him to look at her. Her hands were cold; Nicholas half wondered if she had soaked them in a bowl of ice before coming to visit him. Her grip was unforgiving, even as her expression and voice were soft with pity and shame. "You've never been able to hide from me, my little Nicholas. Don't try it now."  
  
"Why am I here?" Nicholas wanted to get straight to the point, to get this over with so he could find a way out.  
  
"Because there's a war coming, and I need to keep you safe." Amanda's smile held no warmth in it, no kindness. "Don't worry. You won't be here more than a month or two, so long as everything is as it should be."  
  
"What about the king and Connor?"  
  
"What about them?" she asked innocently.  
  
Nicholas jerked his face away, "Don't toy with me, Amanda. Where is the king and what's going to happen to my brother?"  
  
Amanda only grabbed his face again, fingertips painfully digging into his chin and jaw. "Your love for your brother has always blinded you. I can assure you, that curse won't dog your steps for much longer. As for the king, his Majesty will meet an unfortunate accident at the hands of bandits in a neighboring kingdom, or so the story will go."  
  
"Don't you lay a fucking finger on Connor or Markus." Nicholas threw his hand up to grip her wrist, wrenching her hand away from his face, only to find the tip of her dagger pressed against his chin.  
  
"I will not tolerate such disrespect from you, heir to the throne and future king, or not."  
  
"Nicholas sneered at her, "If I'm to be the king in your fantastical future, then you can't touch me."  
  
"Who says a king is incapable of leading if he has scars? Or has lost his tongue?" When Nicholas didn't reply, the duchess smirked. "That's what I thought. Be a good boy and behave while you're here. It'll make things easier for both of us. I may even make Connor and Markus' deaths painless if you do."  
  
She slipped the dagger back into her sleeve and stood, gracefully making her way to the door. "Oh, and Nicholas? The bastard you were so fond of, the blond man, Simon Denarius, I believe was his name? It's a shame that he died alone. You could have done so much more to prevent that, I think. Fought harder? Or perhaps cared less so it wouldn't hurt as much? I invested a lot of coin in the training you and your brother went through growing up, and it failed you. Maybe you should have been paying closer attention."  
  
Nicholas' eyes widened, and he had the urge to rip himself from the shackles to kill her for that. He was already tearing himself apart over Simon's death, but then he threw salt and vinegar into the wound. "Fuck you."  
  
"That language is unbecoming of a king." With that, Nicholas was left alone in the darkness again, locked in the silence of the misery that permeated the air and stones of the cell.  
  
Simon was gone, Markus and Connor would be soon, and Nicholas was alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, I kept typing "douchess" instead of "duchess" and it still sums up Amanda perfectly.


	9. Bloodhound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> North is so done with Connor being too emotionally compromised to lead them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea what happens when you're tracking people so half this chapter is some seriously made up BS. I was trying to keep close to how Connor figures out crime scenes in the game, but without the fancy tech???? I failed, probs, but I tried. lol

Damn Markus for being an idiot.  
  
Damn Nicholas for getting kidnapped.  
  
Damn Simon for almost dying.  
  
And Damn Connor for forcing her out of bed in the middle of the night to find Markus and Nicholas.  
  
North huffed for the eighth time in an hour, horse leading the way and several other soldiers plodding along behind her and Connor. This was dangerous, and a stupid idea and they didn't have time for this. There weren't enough soldiers with them to provide adequate protection; there were fewer with them tonight than there were when Nicholas went missing. She thought Connor was supposed to be an intelligent strategist. What the hell was up with this hairbrained plan of his?  
  
"For the record, I'd like to remind you--"  
  
"That this is a "fucking stupid idea." I know. You've said it about fifteen times now, North." Connor rubbed his temples, eyes clenched shut and jaw tight as he tried to will away the irritation. North was torn on whether or not she should continue. The man was stressed out enough, but this was their safety that they were talking about; his safety.  
  
She rolled her eyes and fell silent. There was nothing more to say at the moment, and she needed to pay attention. Anyone could be out here, and she refused to have anything like what happened to Markus and Nicholas happen to them. Like hell would this be a repeat. As a precaution, she pulled out her own bow and kept it in a free hand. May as well be prepared.  
  
"North, why are you pulling out your bow?" Connor looked more distressed than he had a few moments before, and that wasn't ideal. This whole ordeal had thrown him off. He should have been the first between them to unsheath his weapon, not her. Connor and Nicholas were their leaders, who led them. They were never meant to follow the others and yet here she was, needing to take the initiative to keep his ass safe.  
  
"Because someone around here needs to prepare to save our stupid asses when this goes ass up," she grumbled. "Another thirty minutes and we should be there."  
  
To the other soldiers, she called back, "You all draw your weapons now in case there's a problem. We're not losing anyone tonight if I can help it. Understood?"  
  
"Why haven't you been made guard captain yet?" Connor asked, pulling out his own bow and checking to make sure his daggers were ready for a closer encounter. A bow wouldn't save him if someone charged him, and these little guys were his backup plan.  
  
"Because Nicholas won't approve the appeal."  
  
Connor seemed to consider this, adjusting his grip on his weapons. "I'll talk some sense into him when everything calms down. It should have happened ages ago."  
  
"If it calms down. You three are chaos incarnate, and there's never a dull moment," she grumbled.  
  
"You're complaining that there's too much excitement around here? Am I talking to the same North?" he teased.  
  
"I'm complaining that there's too much of the wrong kind of excitement." North took a sweeping glance of their surroundings. "And for someone so capable, you're shit at stealth."  
  
Connor wanted to refute the accusation, and even had his mouth open to protest, but he closed it a second later. Arguing with her would only prove her point that he couldn't be quiet. He could be silent as the grave, thank you very much.  
  
Poor word choice, but North was glad that he was trying to think clearly again; it was a small victory. This mess...one would think that Connor was the new guy with how he wasn't following any of the training he'd all but beat into them.  
  
No one said anything the rest of the way there, and it took them a few minutes to find the exact spot Nicholas disappeared and Simon nearly died. There were still blood stains and other signs of a struggle; brush was overturned, and in disarray, dirt had been pushed into small mounds where feet slid to hold their ground or to prevent themselves from being dragged away, and it was at least something for them to work with.  
  
North gave orders for the others to stand guard and form a perimeter around her and Connor while they searched for more than what was initially obvious.  
  
Connor finally spoke up to remind her of what they specifically needed from the scene, not that she didn't know this and that he hadn't told her several times already; listening to him anyway seemed to give him a little peace of mind, and so North allowed it. For now.  
  
"I need to prove it was my aunt. We can't march on her without physical evidence."  
  
"Why are you adamant that it was her? Simon was wounded and delirious when this happened. He could have imagined it." Take the bait on purpose to get him to talk again.  
  
"Imagining that my aunt's crest was on the attackers' armor? That's too specific, and I know what my aunt is like."  
  
"Alright then bloodhound, do your thing."  
  
He pushed some brush out of the way with his foot and continued. "However, if these were her men, we won't find a damn thing here. If they were hired thugs or bandits who stole armor from the duchess's guards, then we'll have more to work with. They won't be as picky about perfection as her, which means--"  
  
"--They'll make plenty of mistakes," North finished. She walked to his side and held her lamp out to give him the extra light to see. "Then pray to Ranine that hey made a mistake, even if they were her guards."  
  
"Simon said that Nicholas tried to rip off the crest from one of the dead attackers, but couldn't remember if he was successful in doing so or not. Maybe he managed to get it off, and it's around here somewhere."  
  
"Or he put it in his pocket or something as evidence, and it was taken when he was kidnapped. And there's one other problem." She waited until Connor stopped and gave her his full attention. North really didn't want to say this but dammit, he brought it up. "Even if we find the scrap with the crest, that's not proof enough that it was her and not bandits or something that stole the gear. Or that's an imitation to make people point fingers at her rather than themselves."  
  
"Fuck," he whispered. Halelujia, he's finally getting it. North was ready to strangle him to put an end to this nonsense North could almost see the steam coming out of his ears with how he was turning everything over in his mind. "I still believe it was her. She..." He groaned in frustration. "There has to be something useful to get us started and then we can go from there, but I can't reimagine the whole scene until we've got more to work with. It'll at least get our foot in the door to speak with her. Depending on what she has planned, I'm untouchable for a time."  
  
"Just be careful, Connor." Why did he have to be so optimistic about his convictions on who the culprit was? It would be endearing if it weren't so fucking annoying. Compared to Connor, at least while Connor is so stressed out, Markus is a far better leader. Maybe not in military action, but overall. And at least Markus was capable of being a realist when it counted.  
  
"I'd say, 'when am I ever not careful?' but I have a feeling that it'd bite me in the ass." He moved a short distance away to search another spot where there a concentrated mess from the scuffle. Kneeling, he brushed away some of the debris and grinned. "Found it."  
  
"Seriously?" North came to his side and looked at the torn fabric. "Huh, Simon was right. Nicholas did try to rip it off, but now we know that he succeeded."  
  
Connor drew the fabric closer to his face and held the light up. He needed to know if it was really hers or not. Perfect. Not an imitation and the fabric was the right material. "This is definitely hers and not a copy. It's something at least."  
  
"Please stop being so positive, it's disgusting," she said, watching as he slipped the fabric into his pocket.  
  
"If I stop, I won't be able to do my job until Markus comes back." So much for making a joke of it. Instead, it just dragged Connor down, and he was already struggling.  
  
I'm terrible at this, she thought. Things would be so much easier if a pat on the back could be enough to motivate people. And yet she and one of the twins wanted her to be the guard captain. Could she even do that if she couldn't properly rally those around her?  
  
"Connor, it'll...get better. I don't know when, or how, but things will work out alright in the end." There. She tried.  
  
It had the desired effect or at least a little. Connor was smiling. It was a heavy expression, one that was filled with the exhaustion and heartache of loss. It was killing North just looking at him.  
  
"Smile or I'll fill your bed with beetles again."  
  
"Oh, Ranine, please no." But at least he didn't look like a kicked puppy now.  
  
"Then stop looking so sad and focus on finding the shit you dragged us out here for, asshat."  
  
"I can't believe I'm the prince regent and I'm being given a dressing down by a soldier."  
  
"If you didn't want a reality check, you shouldn't have brought me along." With a sigh, she turned away to start looking for anything else usable. Whoever was here cleaned up the place well-ish. She couldn't pick out anything significant, but one look at Connor and she could tell he was already working out the details from what he could see.  
  
His eyes were unfocused for a minute or so, head turning this way and that to map everything out in his mind. Finally, she watched him smile slightly and move to one side of the struggle. "Okay. So Simon was here, and Nicholas was here. It...looks like this is where Nicholas was kneeling, maybe. This spot is flat here like something was crushing the brush beneath it. A body, but there's a slight push, long-ways, like someone trying to pick it up. And then drag marks here that move that direction. The scuffle between Nicholas and whoever was trying to drag him away was...there were two? And it went here."  
  
Connor carefully navigated his way in that direction, paused, looked up to figure out what stars could be seen from beneath the canopy, and nodded to himself. "That's the direction of my aunt's estate. Let me see if I can find anything that indicates that there were horses involved."  
  
"Connor, there are a dozen places west of here. This doesn't mean it leads to the duchess's home."  
  
"No, but it's enough reason to take a large group of soldiers and start checking every town and estate in that general direction. We don't know who it is, right? May as well be thorough and check everywhere."  
  
Rather than try to talk him out of it, North came to his side and dropped her hand onto his shoulder. "I would think on it another day or two before you act."  
  
"But what if Markus doesn't have that long?"  
  
"He's been gone three days. I'm sure he'll be okay for two or three more." She hoped. Ranine, she didn't want Connor to be king. He was a good leader for the soldiers, when he wasn't fretting over Markus and Nicholas, and he was good for the justice system, but he wasn't as...capable...of taking care of an entire kingdom. "We should head back before we're next."


	10. A Word, Please

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A moment of confusion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is just a short filler chapter, leading to Daniel and Connor having some time to work out a few plans. Fowler may or may not be asked to join them in a later chapter. Idk yet.

Daniel quietly left the room Simon was recovering in, having spent a few hours at his bedside working while his brother slept. He hated seeing him like this. It was strange to witness Simon as the one trapped in bed. It had always been Daniel that fell ill with this or that sickness. There was no telling what he'd catch, and his parents were continually calling the physician to tend to him.  
  
And now he was looking at his brother, who just escaped death and always seemed invincible to illness and injury. It left a horrible taste in Daniel's mouth, thinking about how terrible Simon had looked when they first brought him in. His frail body had been carefully placed on a bed, and Daniel was shoved out of the way for everyone to work on him.  
  
But he was okay now. He was safe and alive and whole and getting better.  
  
\--  
  
Lord Reed caught him halfway to Connor's quarters, where Daniel planned to have tea and discuss a few things. Daniel didn't want to have this conversation. He loathed Lord Reed. The man reeked of...some unnamed feeling that Daniel couldn't put his finger on. He radiated hostility that bled into the air around you, constricting your thoughts until you were ready to strangle the nearest person within arms reach. He was just rotten all around.  
  
Not that he didn't mean well, in most things. He did care about his job and those that lived on his lands and worked for him. He just had a shitty and cruel way of showing it sometimes. His attitude is what should have had him stripped of his title ages ago, but Markus had still found him to be valuable.  
  
Daniel would have booted him before he'd ever earned the title, to begin with, but it wasn't his place to voice such opinions or make those decisions. Even if he desperately wished he could be rid of the filth.  
  
"How is your brother?" He was leaning against the wall at the corner of the next corridor, not blocking Daniel from continuing his trek to Connor's quarters, but in the way enough that he couldn't be ignored.  
  
His tone was filled with concern, which Daniel immediately felt suspicious. Reed showing gentle compassion was not normal, and it immediately set off warning bells that something was off.  
  
Or perhaps he was just paranoid.  
  
"He is...doing better. Joshua says he will be on his feet and out of the medical ward by the end of the week. Keeping out infection is still the main concern and something Joshua is keeping a close eye on." Daniel allowed himself to smile softly, a thankful gesture. "I appreciate your concern."  
  
Reed scoffed. "I don't know the meaning of the word."  
  
He pushed off the wall and winked at him as he brushed by Daniel. "Hope he feels better."  
  
He must be dreaming.  
  
Daniel whirled around and grabbed Reed's arm before he could leave him, his eyes narrowed as he took in Reed's expression. Every twitch, each gleam in his eyes, and the small smirk. "Why do you care? You have never noticed us before."  
  
"Can a man not try to make amends?" he countered, one brow raised.  
  
"He can, but I would still like to know why you have suddenly changed your tune, Lord Reed. This is...unlike you."  
  
Reed imperceptively sagged, what little taunting spark in him fading. "Your brother is in the infirmary, our king and one of his head guards are missing, and the other guard is now the Regent. I believe there is some room for a few changes."  
  
Daniel still didn't trust it, but he wasn't used to seeing Lord Reed back down from any chance for a challenge or a moment to antagonize someone. He was oddly docile, and it made Daniel uncomfortable. He blinked when he realized that Reed had leaned into his space. The steward shied away from the familiarity with which Reed was approaching him, taking a deliberate step back after releasing the man's arm.  
  
Lord Reed grinned and took a step forward. "My suggestion, Daniel," he purred, making the hair on Daniel's arms raise, "would be to find a way to get your brother somewhere safe, and soon. He is incapable of fighting in his condition, and there is a war coming. I would send him away for a few weeks until this whole debacle is resolved."  
  
Was Reed coming onto him? Trying to throw him off so that Daniel screwed everything up? He didn't want Daniel among the other advisors; Daniel wouldn't put it passed him to pull something shitty to get what he wanted--or get rid of what he didn't want.  
  
With that, Reed turned away and sauntered down the hall, as if he hadn't just accosted Daniel in the corridor and left him blushing and wondering what the fuck just happened.


	11. Water

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short filler chapter. Sorry y'all.

Markus stared at the door to Nicholas' cell. He wasn't deaf; he had heard parts of the conversation and good Ranine, he needed to get both of them out of here and save Connor while he was at it. Connor didn't know that he would be the next to die after Markus.  
  
And Nicholas? He and Connor were inseparable. If Amanda killed Connor, it wouldn't matter what else Amanda did to him; just killing his brother would be enough to utterly destroy Nicholas. There was an instance where Connor was sick and in the infirmary, and Nicholas was beside himself with worry, in his own way. Nicholas was the quiet one when it came to his emotions, putting on a front of complete control and calm, but his pacing and the slightly manic edge to his eyes was enough to set Markus on edge until Connor was better and Nicholas had relaxed again.  
  
Connor's worry for Nicholas nearly got him killed once. Nicholas was struck and knocked off his horse, and Connor bolted from the man he was engaged with, turning his back to the enemy, and made for his brother's side. Their concern for one another was touching, and Markus wished he had a sibling he was that close to, but at the same time, it was the twins' weakness. They were each other's chink in the armor.  
  
Markus had North and Simon and Josh, but their relationships were still in their infancy, and they were nowhere near as close as the brothers. Even Simon and Daniel were not this codependent on one another.  
  
One of the guards carried something to Nicholas' cell, two jugs, and went inside to give it to him. Water, maybe? When he approached Markus' cell a short time later, he held the heavier one out, and mumbled 'water.'  
  
"What was in Nicholas' then?"  
  
"You want it too? Have at it." The guard passed it to him, and Markus took a sniff only to find it was vinegar. They were giving Nicholas vinegar to drink.  
  
"This is all Amanda gave him to drink?"  
  
"That was the order."  
  
"Your orders are terrible. You should be ashamed of yourself for following them at all."  
  
The guard seemed unimpressed and snatched both jugs, storming out of Markus' cell before Markus could have any of the offered water. Lovely. He was going to die of thirst because of his big mouth. But the guard's orders were wrong, and Markus needed to make sure the man knew he was doing something terrible. He couldn't go on without someone calling him out on his cruel inaction.  
  
Let the guilt fester, Markus thought bitterly.  
  
\--  
  
Nicholas took one whiff of the stuff and automatically knew what was in the jug. He didn't want to drink any of it, but he wasn't sure when he would have access to fluids again; he had to take what he could get.  
  
He nearly spat it back out, his stomach churning at the flavor and his throat didn't want to open up for the liquid to go down. Nicholas choked as it went down and nearly threw it back up. Seeing that Nicholas likely wouldn't get any more down, the guard took the jug away and walked out, slamming the door shut behind him and locking it.  
  
So much for that.  
  
\--  
  
Amanda looked through the reports on the kingdom's adjustments on their forces in exasperation. What was Connor doing? Why would he...oh. He thought she, or whoever took Markus and Nicholas, would attack the kingdom. But only thirty-five for an offensive force? Surely he would bolster the forces outside of the city until they got the king and guard back. It seemed so small, so why was he preparing for a defense like this? To her, it made more sense to defend the city with the thirty-five percent and the sixty-five percent for an offense. They could do so much more with an attack.  
  
She thought she taught him better than that.  
  
No matter. She didn't plan to attack the city anyway, and the smaller forces they would send out wouldn't be enough to stop her and her own militia. They knew these parts better than the soldiers, and it wouldn't be safe for Connor to be with them to be the guide. Nicholas wasn't with them, and so Connor couldn't send him out either.  
  
In her mind, he was stuck. There was no way his council and military would allow him to leave and lead the soldiers, Regent or not. General Fowler could only do so much on his own, and Connor's experience wouldn't him too far.  
  
Good. Keep him locked out of options, and he'd lose the game. Despite his abilities, he never was better than her at chess; it was his brother who was a better strategist. Connor was emotional from his separation anxiety and worry; it made him foolish.  
  
She looked up to the informant and smirked, "Thank you. Take this with you and place them appropriately, thank you."  
  
The Duchess passed over a rucksack filled with false crests and other paraphernalia to throw them off when they went back into the woods to continue the search. "That will be all."  
  
The woman nodded and left silently.  
  
Amanda took a seat at her desk again, flipping through the pages once more. This would be easier than she thought; she expected better of Connor. His love of his brother and the king would be his undoing. To think, she had done so much to prevent him from being this weak, and yet he fell so quickly and willingly to affection and attachment.  
  
It was disappointing to find he wouldn't be a challenge.  
  
Oh, well. The sooner she could get this over with, the better.


	12. Impulse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor gets his ass chewed out, a terrible plan is hatched, and Daniel is tired of being the anxious mom friend with a temper.

When Daniel entered Connor's quarters, he expected to find the Prince Regent there, but he was nowhere to be seen. He rushed back into the hallway and looked to the guards. He asked in a rush, "Where's the Regent?"  
  
"He's in his room, sir."  
  
"No, he's not. He's nowhere in this wing of the castle. Why the hell is he missing? Find him, now. We can't afford to lose yet another heir. You absolute idiots!" He was furious. How could they let Connor go missing like this? His rooms were too high for him to go out a window and he couldn't just walk out the door without them noticing, right? "When was there a guard change and was this door left unoccupied while it took place?"  
  
"There was a change around three am, sir, and yes, it was left unattended at the time. For five minutes, at the least." The guard shifted uncomfortably, knowing that they'd screwed up.  
  
"I should have you all flogged for this! Our only leader at the moment is missing, and you idiots didn't think to make sure that there was at least one person at the door to keep an eye out for him or anyone else? I swear on your graves, if he is missing or dead, I will have you both hung by your toes before slitting your throats myself." Besides Connor being their leader, Connor was also his friend. If anything happened to him...  
  
He didn't want to think about it.  
  
"Find him. Now."  
  
\--  
  
Connor and North had snuck back in around six, but the guards were outside his door when he headed for his room. His only way back in was through that door, and if anyone but North and their men knew that he had left unattended by the guard, no one would let him out of their sight until this was resolved. Someone would be in the room with him at all times.  
  
He felt like a damn prisoner, and Connor found the whole situation on his end to be abhorrent. Connor just wanted some peace and quiet.  
  
So he hid in the library, which was a place he frequented when he wasn't with Markus or Nicholas. If anyone went looking for him, they should--hopefully--think to look for him there first.  
  
When he collapsed onto the most comfortable couch, Connor was out in moments. To keep up the pretense of wanting to read, he stacked a few books on the table nearby and put an opened book on his chest cover facing up. Maybe it would make it more believable. Daniel would likely see through it, but it was better than everyone seeing through the ruse.  
  
\--  
  
Someone in the council was the first to find him, much to Daniel's horror. He wished he had located Connor first so that he could help smooth things over. The guards were in enough trouble with him, but Fowler would be just as harsh in his punishment, if not more so, than Daniel. Daniel was ruthless when someone tempted fate and drew out his ire, but Fowler was a commander, the leader of their forces, and his soldiers were the most well trained on the continent for a reason.  
  
When he got to the meeting, where Connor had all but been dragged to, it was to find everyone looking pissed off and Connor avoiding everyone's gazes. Daniel couldn't blame him.  
  
Actually, he could.  
  
"Excuse me, sire, but what the everloving fuck were you thinking?" He shouldn't have said that if the tension in the room that doubled was any indication of his faux pas. Fuck them. His friend and their leader had been reckless, and honestly, Connor had it coming if all of them chose to bless him out over it. "You left without your guards, knowing when they changed shifts and sneaking out like a delinquent when we need you here and safe and whole. You could have been taken too! Or killed. You've pulled reckless stunts in the past, but you have never been this stupid. Of all of the times you could have done something like this, it had to be when you are our only leader! What the hell?"  
  
No one stopped him. It seemed Daniel would be speaking for all of them. Fine by him; Daniel needed to let off some steam anyway. Even Reed had nothing to say and didn't scowl or sneer at Daniel. They were in agreement then.  
  
"Daniel, I am trying to find the king and my brother which I cannot do from here. You know I am the best tracker we have, and if anyone in our military or the guard can find them, it would be me. I had a small team of soldiers with me, and no, before you ask, I will not give you their names. We all came back alive and in one piece without any altercations."  
  
"That's not the fucking point, Stern!" Reed snapped. "Your friend is right. You're a fucking idiot to go out there like that."  
  
"I believe we could have approached this issue differently and with a little more tact," Lord Kamski started, the most relaxed and at ease of all of them, "but I must agree. I cannot recall a time where you have ever acted so out of character. Please don't do this again, your grace."  
  
There was silence, where everyone was staring the Prince Regent down until finally, Lady Warren spoke up. "Did you at least find something useful?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Well, tell us already." Reed was ready to walk out.  
  
"Nicholas had found one of the mercenaries with our aunt's crest on it. When the soldiers and I went to look around where Nicholas disappeared to, we found the direction the attackers went in. West." I'm not saying it was my aunt, he thought wryly, but it was my aunt. "Simon can confirm what he saw before Nicholas was kidnapped."  
  
"I'm going to play devil's advocate here and ask, how do we know you are not in on it with your aunt and brother?"  
  
Connor shot Reed a look. "I detest the woman and always have. I would never be on her side, nor would I want anything to do with whatever she wants. Every word that comes from that woman's mouth is poison of the worst kind, and I am thankful every single day that Nicholas and I are not subjected to her abuses any longer."  
  
Reed held up his hands defensively, trying to pacify Connor when he said, "I was just asking, sire."  
  
The fight seemed to leave Connor all at once, and he morosely looked down at the journal he took notes in. "I would never wish harm on Nicholas or Markus. I care deeply for both of them, and would not betray them like that."  
  
"I apologize."  
  
"Accepted."  
  
There was a beat of silence before Lord Kamski spoke up. "It is a large assumption to blame the Duchess like this. A simple crest could be forged, and I would not advise that we march on her estate to search the place like--"  
  
"I am not saying we show up at her door with the whole of the military." Connor dug around in his pocket to yank out a scrap of fabric, tossing it onto the table for the others to see. "I know my family crest, and I know what specific threads Lady Stern insists on using for the embroidered ones. This belongs to her unless you think simple bandits managed to swipe armor from her stores, or get their hands on the right thread, and pose as her soldiers for some idiotic reason."  
  
"Well, shit," Reed muttered. "So what do you propose?"  
  
Daniel didn't like the look on Connor's face. He didn't like it one bit and cast a glance at Reed to see that he knew that expression well too. Ranine help them all, Daniel hoped it wasn't a risky idea.  
  
A slow grin spread across his face, "Invite her, along with other nobles from the area for dinner or something. While they're all here, send in a small faction of people to her estate to search the place. Have our spymaster look into forming a group to do this for us. We'll entertain the nobles here with dinner perhaps. Maybe even a show."  
  
"And how do you know that she won't see this coming? She'll be prepared for that situation, you know."  
  
"Then make it out to be that we want to discuss possible changes while Markus is "away." That should hold her," Connor assured Kamski. I hope, he thought.  
  
Daniel hated the plan already, and he and Reed were still sharing an uncomfortable look over the whole ordeal.  
  
"Your Highness, I..." Daniel winced and gritted his teeth before forcing himself to relax. "I sincerely hope you know what you're doing."  
  
The look on Connor's face told Daniel all he needed to know. Connor was acting quickly, on his toes like he did in battle.  
  
They were fucked.


	13. Hashtag Pining

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm not giving you a summary because that stupid-ass title is enough of one.  
> And hey, look everyone! The Conkus this fic was supposed to be about. Who knew such a thing existed in this fic???

_Markus turned his face to the sun, eyes closed as he lounged on the bench in the gardens._  
  
_Being king hadn't been his original plan, but it was how things panned out. His intention was to lead the people in a revolution to usurp the previous king and put someone else there._  
  
_He never meant to be here._  
  
_The downside to this--there were quite a few, he'd discovered--was that these moments of peace and quiet were rarely had in solitude. The brothers or someone else was always nearby to keep him safe from anyone left over from the previous monarchy. Markus just wanted to take a nap and avoid people for a bit. Not that he hated the guard who was with him at the moment, but it made him uncomfortable to have Connor standing a short distance away, leaning against a tree while he kept an eye on Markus and the area around them._  
  
_Markus could feel every time those umber eyes settled on him, studying every aspect of Markus and his person. It was both thrilling and unsettling. He loved and hated it the same._  
  
_His guard belonged to a family who was nobility before the coup. They still were. The Sterns were an odd assortment of people, eccentric in their behaviors and upbringings, but Markus' two guards turned out normal enough. They were both kind and gentle in their own ways, and fiercely protective of each other and Markus. They were nothing like their aunt, who Markus was tempted to revoke her title in the beginning. After getting to know Connor and Nicholas through their help in the revolution, however, he changed his mind for their sakes._  
  
_They were both on the quiet and shy side, but Connor, the eldest of the two, was a little more outgoing than Nicholas. Nicholas lived up to his namesake. His calm and stern demeanor was a deterrent to conversing with anyone who didn't know how to read his microexpressions. Once Markus got to know him a little, he saw the emotions there, the faint smiles when he thought Connor and Simon weren't watching._  
  
_He adored his older brother and was smitten with Simon. It took time for Markus to figure out what was wrong with Nicholas' face when Simon was around. It was a happy expression, what little Nicholas let bleed through, but it was almost as if he were in pain._  
  
_Maybe he was, Markus mused with a tiny smile. Love was painful sometimes, especially when the other doesn't know that someone is interested in them. He didn't know that Simon watched him too; Markus didn't plan to step in and tell them to just talk to each other. It wasn't his place, and he would merely observe._  
  
_Besides, he had his own problems._  
  
_His current guard was the object of Markus' affections, but it wasn't like they could produce an heir together, nor would he want to shirk his duties to his king. It was admirable but frustrating because Markus wanted desperately to woo Connor, but he didn't think he could. It wouldn't be right to impose that power imbalance between them. They were already friends, and that would have to be enough for him._  
  
_He could watch Connor from afar and daydream about something between them. Daydreams never hurt anyone, right?_  
  
_"I can see the smoke coming out of your ears from all of the thinking, your majesty."_  
  
_Markus felt a smile bloom across his face, noting the warmth in Connor's voice outdid that of the sun. The red light behind his eyelids left dark spots in his vision when he opened them to look at Connor. He felt a flicker of disappointment that he couldn't see him properly for a few moments. Was that odd? It was odd._  
  
_Connor was seated beside him, pressed against the armrest on the other side of the bench to keep distance between them; he was always proper, always careful of their relationship._  
  
_"Tell me your thoughts, your majesty," Connor murmured, looking out at the gardens. Markus, over time, had noticed that Connor seemed torn between peace and the urge to run when he was in the gardens. Markus had yet to find it in him to ask about it, fearing that it would cross a line._  
  
_"Wouldn't you like to know," he teased._  
  
_"I would, actually." Connor glanced over at him, a wry smile brightening the glow of his lovely face. Okay, Markus thought he had a nice face, and that probably would sound weird if he said that out loud too. "Smart ass."_  
  
_"You wouldn't have me any other way, Connor. You know this."_  
  
_"Mmm." He seemed to consider it before the smile turned into a smirk. "I don't know about that. Perhaps a slight adjustment to the sarcasm would be nice--ow!"_  
  
_Markus had swatted his arm; it wasn't hard enough to hurt Connor, the faker. They both laughed and looked away from one another. Markus hated how things could be so comfortable between them, and then awkward the next as if they realized what they were doing was inappropriate between a king and his guard and they settled back into their respective roles._  
  
_It was painful, in a way, and Markus wished he could banish the rules of the Game and try to close the distance between them. There were moments like this where it felt like they were inches away from reaching the other, only for a canyon to open wide and put miles between them._  
  
_The sad thing was that Markus knew Connor wouldn't throw away duty for love. He hoped, wished, that he would when Markus caught a softer look on his face. There was something gentle there, behind the intelligence and curiosity and the desire to be and do more; there was a hint of fondness. Markus wanted to bottle it up or tie it down so that it wouldn't escape and be locked away in the back of Connor's mind so that propriety would prevail once more._  
  
_Markus turned away to stare at the roses he saw Connor eyeing warily the first time they were in the gardens together. "I was thinking about a little of everything, I suppose. There is a lot on my mind at the moment, both good and bad."_  
  
_"Would you like to tell me about it?"_  
  
_"Yes and no."_  
  
_"Then perhaps another time, if you feel comfortable with it."_  
  
_\--_  
  
_There was a ball to celebrate Markus' birthday. He was absolutely miserable and wanted to get the hell out of there as soon as possible. Faking a smile was draining, and he was ready to call it a night on social functions. He couldn't kick everyone out, nor could he just up and turn in for the night while other guests partied on._  
  
_"Sire, if you frown anymore, it will stick that way."_  
  
_Markus snorted and gently elbowed his guard, who had come to stand close at his side. If Connor were not his guard, if he and Markus could have their way, Connor could be there for a different reason. It was still a daydream, a fantasy that Markus wished for._  
  
_"Perhaps I want to seem grumpy for the rest of my days. Have you ever thought of that, Lord Stern?" He loved when Connor wrinkled his nose in distaste at something ridiculous; it was adorable on his boyish features. "Do not make that face for long. It may just stick."_  
  
_"Ass," Connor muttered without heat, fighting back a grin. They stood in silence for a time, observing the dancers and people eating and milling about at the party. "Is it bad that I'm jealous that the ladies get to dress in something that swirls and we don't?"_  
  
_The question caught Markus off guard, and he let out a startled laugh. "The hell, Connor?"_  
  
_"What? I want my coats to twirl around like that when I turn. It's not fair that we can't have flowy coats." He was fighting his grin, clearly enjoying how Markus broke into another fit of unkingly laughter; it may have been a little smug._  
  
_Markus shook his head when his laughter died off and looked at his companion. The way Connor's eyes wrinkled when he was smiling, even if it was because he was being a smug little shit, made him all the more appealing, even if it was unintentional on Connor's part. He wanted to kiss the smile, drink it in and breathe in every laugh. The light shining on his dark hair and illuminating his paler skin did things to Markus' heart._  
  
_When this first started, he feared that he was dying. It took only a few days for him to realize that no, he wasn't dying, he was just smitten with his beautiful guard and how could Fate be this cruel to him?_  
  
_"Dance with me."_  
  
_Markus came out of his daze and blinked slowly at Connor. "What?"_  
  
_The man snickered and held out a hand. "Dance with me."_  
  
_He couldn't refuse an offer like that._  
  
_Markus took his hand and, though he wanted Connor to be the one to lead him to the floor, Markus had to guide Connor. It was an unspoken requirement that he be the one to initiate, whether he liked it or not. But he didn't make it three steps before Connor pulled him back and nodded his head at the door to the gardens. Oh._  
  
_That's fine by him. He needed the air anyway._  
  
_Connor led him outside and wasted no time in tugging Markus close for them to dance to the music that filtered out through the windows. The night was young, but the moon was full, and Markus found himself transfixed on Connor and his smile._  
  
_"Blue suits you." And dammit, now the man was blushing._  
  
_"Thank you." Connor smiled sheepishly. "To be quite honest, I picked it because I thought you--"_  
  
_"Your majesty, the guests are expecting you for your end of the night speech before they all retire." Markus looked over to find Daniel in the doorway, expression pained at having to interrupt them like this._  
  
_Connor let go quickly and switched right back into his role of the king's guard, the rift between them increasing unbearably._  
  
_"Thank you, Daniel. I will be there in a moment." Daniel gave a single nod and then disappeared back into the castle, leaving Markus and Connor alone again. Markus turned his attention back to Connor. "What were you going to say, Connor?"_  
  
_"Nothing, your majesty. It was not important." Liar, Markus thought._  
  
_\--_  
  
_Connor and Nicholas had come to Markus' defense when he was speaking before the assembly, the first one created before the current circle of advisors. Someone hired a man to assassinate him during the meeting, and the brothers got him out of there before it could take place. Markus didn't know how they knew, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to. The point was, they kept him safe, as their jobs dictated._  
  
_Why would they risk their lives for him like this? They were the next in line for the throne if anything happened to him and yet they would throw it away in a heartbeat for a man like him, a man who was picked up off the street by chance and found himself unintentionally leading a rebellion. Whether he was a good leader or not, they didn't have to give him their loyalty._  
  
_Connor was livid that the spymaster didn't alert them sooner. It wasn't her fault, and Markus said as much. She wasn't perfect, couldn't be expected to be perfect. Kara was damn good at her job. That they found anything out at all was a miracle._  
  
_"I will meet with Kara and North. Connor--"_  
  
_"I will stay here with the king and the other guards. Don't worry, Nicholas."_  
  
_"Do I ever worry?"_  
  
_"Yes."_  
  
_Nicholas flipped him off on his way out, a faint smile fading as quickly as it appeared. The speed at which he could change his expressions was unsettling, if useful._  
  
_Markus looked back to Connor who appeared to have aged a few years in the span of thirty minutes from stress and wariness of the world around them. Worry and anger and fear were not a good look on him, Markus decided. Connor closed the curtains over the windows and then kept his eyes on the door. He was tense, coiled for a fight and ready to defend Markus to the death if he needed to. Not even needed, but wanted. Connor would gladly give himself to keep Markus safe. Connor, Nicholas, and all of the guards under their instruction would. Their trust and respect was not something Markus took advantage of. He cared deeply for all of them, and it pained him to imagine a life without them there._  
  
_Carefully, he approached Connor, who hardly spared him a glance from his attention on the door. It didn't bother Markus; the man was doing his job and trying to focus. However, he needed Connor to relax a little._  
  
_He rested his hand on Connor's shoulder and smiled softly. "Connor, breathe. Nicholas and the others can handle it. We are both safe at the moment."_  
  
_"We're not safe until the assassin is caught and their employer is found. I already have a hunch as to who made the contract with them, but we need the assassin for me to be sure. Nicholas has more than likely come to the same conclusion."_  
  
_"With two geniuses like you two on the case, they'll be found in no time." Markus grinned when he saw the faint blush spread over Connor's cheeks; he still wouldn't look away from the door._  
  
_"Your faith in us is...we appreciate it. Thank you, Markus. I hope we never fail you."_  
  
_"You won't. I'm sure of it."_  
  
_\--_  
  
_Connor was laughing at the story Markus was sharing with him about what happened between Simon and Nicholas. He was sick and couldn't make it to the training fields that day, nor could he do too much to protect Markus like this, but that didn't mean Markus wouldn't visit him and regale him with tales of his brother's crush-related blunders._  
  
_"He is trying his best."_  
  
_He snorted at that. "I'm sure he is. My brother is a mess and so uncomfortably obvious. You would think Simon would have noticed by now and said something."_  
  
_Markus took a quick sip of his wine and leaned back in the chair he'd brought into Connor's room. The patient in question was sitting cross-legged on the bed, picking at the blankets. He looked terrible, pale with a red nose and haggard. It was worrying, even if it only was a cold._  
  
_"Their pining is becoming painful. We must step in eventually to put an end to everyone's misery." If only it were that easy for them. Markus was noticing the looks more and more on Connor's end, but he wasn't sure if Connor realized that Markus knew. Markus tried to make it obvious, but it wasn't that easy. Connor's sense of duty always cropped up just before Markus could do something that would make it plain as day that he wanted to be with Connor._  
  
_"No. Wait and let them work it out on their own. Intervening could only do more harm than good." He covered his face when he sneezed, nose scrunched in disgust when he dropped his hands. "However, we could tease them both privately about it and see if it gets either of them to take a step towards the other."_  
  
_"Our sarcasm will be the death of them," Markus muttered, lips twitching into a smile when Connor laughed._  
  
_\--_  
  
_Connor was asleep in the library with an old astronomy tome resting on his chest. The couch he'd commandeered was too short for his long legs and height, but damn if he wasn't subconsciously trying to make it work. It was comical to see someone of his stature trying to sleep on a couch that wouldn't even be the right length for someone of five feet._  
  
_The library seemed to be Connor's favorite place in the castle when he wasn't working or training. If no one could find him, this was the first place to begin a search. Or, it was the first place Markus and Nicholas looked. The gardens would be the last, and Markus still didn't know why Connor didn't seem to like it out there. He finally asked Nicholas about it, and Nicholas simply told him that it was Connor's story to tell and that he'd talk to Markus about it when he was ready._  
  
_The minds of the brothers were sharp and soaked up information like sponges._  
  
_Markus loved to ask Connor about whatever he had read recently, just to watch Connor animatedly gush about this or that subject; he was thrilled to teach others what he knew, and Markus figured that it was why he did well as one of the leaders of the private guard. He could show them things they wouldn't learn with the general law enforcement or military. This was one of the few times Connor truly cut loose and allowed himself to be excited and giddy about something._  
  
_That, and dogs._  
  
_Markus leaned over Connor and took in the details of his face. The freckles and moles and the way his curls drooped off to the side with him on his back and head tipped to the left. Markus wanted to run his hands through Connor's hair, trace his finger over full lips, and bask in the sweet sight of Connor at peace._  
  
_Connor wasn't his to dote on or express a gentleness that crossed the line of propriety that Connor insisted on._  
  
_He pulled away, draped his coat over Connor, and reluctantly left the library to let Connor sleep._  
  
_Once Markus made the brilliant move of asking Connor about the heart, trying to smoothly flirt with the man, only for Connor to thwart him by excitedly explaining everything he knew about the organ. Anyone else might call it a mistake to ask Connor something like that, knowing he'd gush about it. Markus didn't see it as a problem; he was more than happy to let Connor talk about an interest of his for hours. It afforded him the opportunity to see Connor light up at the prospect of having an eager audience to teach. It was sweet._  
  
_In return, Connor would ask Markus about his father and what he was like. It still hurt, but laughing about Carl's antics and sense of humor was therapeutic; he could remember the good times and share it with someone._  
  
_Connor also let Markus tell him about the problems in the kingdom, just listening so that Markus could vent about it and then, if he asked for it, Connor would offer a few words on his thoughts on the problem. His assistance, when needed, was invaluable to Markus._  
  
_\--_  
  
_"Connor, please hold still."_  
  
_"I'm trying."_  
  
_"And quit talking."_  
  
_At that, Connor tried to bite back a laugh, teeth digging into his bottom lip and his eyes crinkling in amusement. "Then don't ask me questions."_  
  
_"I'm the king," Markus argued teasingly as if that explained the reasoning behind his demands. In reality, Markus couldn't imagine ever abusing that power and inflicting demands on Connor that Connor wouldn't be able to say 'no' to. He didn't want to break that trust between them._  
  
_"Oh, forgive me, your majesty." Just to get back at him, Connor bowed on his stool to show "respect" to his king with all of the grace of a newborn giraffe; he fell off the stool because of it._  
  
_"Connor!" Markus dropped his paint supplies where they were and rushed to his side to help him up, only to find the man laughing his ass off. Markus was tempted to drop him for that. "You little shit."_  
  
_He wasn't angry with him though; seeing Connor relax enough to cut up like this was refreshing. Markus was just glad that he was okay. Connor was still grinning, the occasional chuckle breaking through his pathetic attempts to control himself. He was cute like this._  
  
_Markus smiled along with him, though he shook his head in exasperation. His goofy guard. Whatever would he do with him?_  
  
_Connor's expression softened, almost loving as he met Markus' gaze. They glanced at each other's lips at the same time, leaning in closer until Markus could feel the warmth radiating off of Connor. Just as he thought they would finally kiss, Connor was gone with a sharp gasp, looking terrified._  
  
_"I-I shouldn't have...I overstepped my bounds. I apologize, your majesty." And before Markus could respond and assure him that he wasn't upset, that he wanted Connor to kiss him, Connor was out the door and sending Simon in to guard Markus for him. It hurt, though Markus tried to understand._  
  
\--  
  
Markus woke with a jolt, hearing someone banging on the door of his cell. The guard from before came in with a jug of water and food, dropped them carelessly onto the floor and walked out. He ignored how Markus scrambled to turn the jug upright so that it wouldn't spill everywhere. He didn't know when he'd get his next meal or drink of water.  
  
His dreams were his only solace, it seemed. How pathetic, he thought bitterly.


	14. It Begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoohoo  
> We're getting into the good bits...  
> I hope.  
> The next few chapters jump POV a LOT. Sorry about that.
> 
> Warnings: Violence/Blood mentions that sort of thing. It's not graphic, promise.

"Connor, if you don't stop pacing, I'm going to tie you to a chair." North was leaning against the wall by the door to Connor's quarters, glowering at the man as he burned a path in the rugs with his steady circling. It was maddening, watching how he couldn't hold still for ten minutes. She understood that he was worried, but Ranine damn, it was getting old.

Simon and Fowler were leading the small group of troops to the Stern estate to "investigate." So far as they knew, the duchess didn't know that they were coming. North hoped it stayed that way. This plan had been several weeks in the making, and North desperately wished that Markus and Nicholas were okay. Connor and Simon were still beside themselves with worry, and the longer it took to retrieve them, the more distressed they became. Markus may not even be alive now, and Connor was chomping at the bit to get the hell out of here and get Markus back.

But with him as the Regent and the only leader they had at the moment, they couldn't risk letting him run off to help.

It had aged him a little over the last few weeks. The bags under his eyes darkened, and he looked a little bedraggled. Connor and Nicholas were known for their meticulous attention to their appearance, trained for perfection. To watch Connor all but fall apart, visually, was concerning. His despondent attitude was rubbing off on everyone else. Even the advisors, Reed included, were beginning to shows signs of misery.

Connor barely spared her a glance before he threw himself into a chair to mope and fidget. "I can't help it, North. What if they're dead or worse?"

"You're not the only one worrying about them, Connor," she snapped. "We all love the two of them and are just as worried. Don't think that you and Simon are the only two who care for them."

That shut him up, and Connor turned his gaze to the fire, suitably chastened for his behavior.

"I apologize," he said after a while.

North didn't respond right away, too busy staring out one of the windows across the room. It took a few minutes for her to finally ask, "Why won't you and Markus just...why won't you become his consort? You clearly love one another."

Connor didn't look away from the fire as he replied, "I am bound by oath to protect his majesty with my life. I cannot lead two lives, North. I made this commitment first, and despite what I want, what Markus wants, I can't take it back."

"I call horseshit."

"Call it whatever you'd like."

\--

Simon glanced at Fowler out of the corner of his eye. The man was as stoic as ever; despite his careless posture, he was nearly as regal as Markus, especially in his armor like this. Simon could see some of the handsome general from Fowler's youth; it was in his eyes and build, mostly. The red and gold colors of their kingdom were slightly hidden beneath the metal armor, but they complimented the dark tones of his skin nicely. His wife was a lucky woman, at least based on his looks. And he seemed chivalrous and kind beneath his hard exterior. Simon wasn't blind to the soft look he had when he saw kids; he noticed it when he first met Alice.

It was sweet.

"Is there a reason you're staring at me, Simon?"

The man in question smiled sheepishly and looked down at the mane of his horse. "I was thinking about how you are actually a softy, sir."

"Excuse you."

"Not that you always are! I mean that I know you like kids and that you are kinder than you seem."

Fowler seemed unimpressed by Simon's observation and made it known when he decided to roll his eyes and look back at the path they were taking through the woods. "Do not spread around falsehoods."

"I would never, sir."

Their trek continued on until they reached the border of the Stern estate. They left a large number of their men hidden in the trees and took only three others with them to the house. They couldn't seem like a threat, just in case they were wrong. It wouldn't do to start unneeded trouble, but Simon and Connor were confident that it was the duchess behind this. Fowler had little choice but to follow orders. He consoled himself with 'it's better to be safe than sorry,' but it only did so much to sooth his unease.

The duchess herself answered the door for them as her stable boys took their horses for them. Fowler held up a hand to stop them for walking away. "We will not be long, but do remain here for a little while longer, please."

The men looked at each other in confusion but didn't argue over it. They remained outside to wait.

Duchess Stern seemed cordial with her soft smile, graciously inviting the men into her home, despite how they were armored. Simon could see a slight twitch in her fingers, anxiety or irritation, ready for a fight. Both, probably. Nicholas taught everyone to pay attention to details.

"Gentlemen, to what do I owe the pleasure?" There was a slight change in her tone, a higher pitch.

Simon and Fowler shared a look before Fowler spoke.

"We're here at the behest of the court. Trackers discovered that when the king was taken, they brought him westward. As a formality, we're checking every building west of the palace in the hopes of locating him. Could you please gather your staff? We would like to interview them and see if they've seen anything that could help."

Simon wished that Anderson had come with them; investigations were his thing.

The duchess glanced at one of her staff and nodded, and the small group in the entry watched as the servant left the room. While Amanda seemed adept at hiding most of her unease, the servant looked pale and uncomfortable as she all but fled the room.

Amanda beckoned them to follow.

Simon let the general go ahead of him and snuck away as their guards followed Fowler. He trailed after the servant down a hall and noted the cellar door that was only just open, not sealed shut. Simon drew a dagger he had hidden away and silently crept down the dark corridor. It was perfect for an ambush, but he needed to see what they were hiding in such a place. The dismal atmosphere took on a more threatening tone when the chill from being underground set in. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end, and he slowed his steps.

He should turn back. Being here alone was dangerous and could end with him dead. Really dead, this time.

Doors, cell doors, finally started to flank the hall, with hardly a sliver of light slipping in through the narrow, six-inch-wide windows in the outer walls. It was enough to offer limited air circulation, but not much else. Prisoners would freeze down here in the winter, Simon imagined; it was ridiculous, almost cruel.

There was a sound behind him, and Simon whirled around to find a servant standing there, sword drawn.

The faint sound of several steps behind the man revealed the duchess and several of her guards. They stepped out of the darkness, Fowler and his soldiers in tow and held at knife-point.

At the shocked expression on Simon's face, Amanda's mordant smile grew; it sent a chill through him. He shared a look with Fowler and adjusted the grip on his dagger. Simon wasn't dropping it without the general's say-so. Fowler shook his head, shoulders sagging. Simon was forced to lower his dagger when they motioned that Fowler would sustain worse injuries if he didn't.

Simon hoped he was faking. If not, then they had approximately an hour before their backup would enter the estate to figure out what happened to them. He hoped that they lived that long.

"A contact of mine sent word ahead of you, alerting my staff and I of your plans to invade my home, looking for evidence of foul play. According to them, you have no plans to look elsewhere and believe that I am the only suspect. You're right, of course, but that's not the point." She folded her arms over her chest and sauntered over to Simon, smirk in place. "Your king is dying, the prince regent will be dead by sundown, and the last heir will be found in a nearby village, wounded, but alive and able to lead. You took too long."

"Dying? What did you do to him?" No. Nononono. Please don't let them have arrived too late to save him.

"Does it matter? You all will die shortly, and my guards and I will claim that you falsely attacked us, and we defended ourselves. Simple as that." She reached up to cup Simon's chin. "A pity that you survived only to die here."

Simon glanced over the duchess' shoulder at the general again, who deliberately averted his gaze and trained it on Simon's hands. Oh.

"A pity that you like to hear yourself brag," Simon murmured. Amanda's eyes widened when there was the sound of fabric tearing, a gasp escaping her as her gaze flicked down to the knife in her side. "I thought you were the smart one in the family."

There was a brief pause, a beat of silence, and then all hell broke loose as everyone broke away from one another to fight. It was chaos in the narrow passage. The stone echoed their shouts and the clash of metal on metal. Simon shoved the duchess to the side and rushed to join the fray, intent on helping them finish the skirmish as quickly as possible.

It was over in a matter of moments, and when Simon, the general, and their guards looked around at the wreckage, it was to find that Amanda was missing. Fowler swore.

Turning to one of the soldiers, he ordered him to find the others and send a handful of them ahead to the castle. Someone was going to assassinate Connor, and they didn't have much longer to save him. When it was just the four of them left, Simon turned and rushed down the passage. He had to find Markus and help him. He didn't have any medicines on him if he was poisoned or wounded. Ranine help him, he hoped Markus was only dehydrated or starving. They were still lethal if left unchecked, but he had a better chance of surviving if that were the case.


	15. Shame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: A crap ton of fighting? I tried to not be graphic about the deaths but...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I almost made Gavin the traitor, but then I found a note on my phone that had a blurb about what I wanted to do with him and someone else and was like, welp, plan b now. So the traitor thing was changed to fit that. Surprise?  
> Also, I'm so sorry that these recent chapters are bouncing around in POV and all. ^^'

Kara rushed to Connor's quarters and banged on the door. "North! Let me in."  
  
The woman in question flung the door open, and Kara bodily shoved her out of the way and slammed the door shut.  
  
"Kara, what the hell?"  
  
"Allen." Kara leaned against the door and sucked in lungfuls of air. Sprinting from one end of the palace to the other, and killing any of the traitors she saw on her way, was exhausting and she needed a moment. "Lord Allen. He's leaked information to the duchess. He and a few men are coming up here to kill you, Connor."  
  
"Oh, great. This day is just getting better and better," he grumbled. Connor grabbed his daggers and slipped his leather gloves on to ensure a sturdier grip on them. "Where's Daniel?"  
  
"Don't worry about him. Worry about yourself."  
  
North and Kara readied their own weapons. North had brought her sword and shield this time, wanting to prepare for a better defense if the need arose. Well, it had arisen, it seemed. Kara had two bladed tonfas, with her bow and quiver on her back. North didn't doubt that she'd killed several with the tonfas already; she didn't want to think about it. Honestly, it was distracting, and she couldn't afford that right now.  
  
"I am assuming you already have a plan, Kara?" North prompted.  
  
"Of course. There's an escape route used for the royals a short distance from here. We can easily make it there, and then leave the palace to make for a safe house."  
  
"We have a safe house?"  
  
Kara looked at Connor with her own grin. "We have several, but I keep all of their locations to myself. They would not be very safe if everyone knew where they were," she teased. "The passage leads to a cave on the Storm Coast. The tides shouldn't be a problem, and even if they do delay us, anyone pursuing us would be hardpressed to keep up with us, if they do manage to find the tunnel."  
  
"How long do we have until they reach us?"  
  
There was a crash in the hallway, causing all three to flinch and ready themselves for a fight.  
  
"Now," Kara mumbled.  
  
"How do you always find this shit out at the last minute Kara?" North growled, moving to put herself between the door and the other two.  
  
"Because Allen has been hindering my work. I knew someone was, but not who was behind it. One of my informants stumbled into my office earlier, bleeding out, and managed to give me what they knew before they fainted from blood loss." Kara hesitated to continue but pressed onward. "I had to leave them there. Getting to you was more important."  
  
Connor was struck with another pang of guilt. This wasn't...too many were dying or putting their lives on the line for him, and he hated it. It felt wrong to be in this position rather than doing the protecting himself. One look at Kara's expression and he knew damn well that it was hard for her too. Like Connor, she cared for those under her leadership; losing just one of them was painful. It was part of the job, and everyone who was part of the guard or under their spymaster's watchful eye knew what they signed up for. It didn't make it any easier.  
  
"We can talk about this later. For now, we need to get out of here. Which direction do we head in when we get into the hall, Kara?"  
  
"Left. We need to make for the painting of the Storm Coast. Most of the passages are marked with paintings of their exits. It's clever, isn't it?" Kara's smirk would have been hilarious if it were not for their current situation. The expression always seemed so foreign on the calm and gentle woman, despite her profession.  
  
Connor gestured for North to go on. "Let's get this over with."  
  
Another crash, followed by shouting outside, alerted them to the unavoidable conflict that awaited them. With a nod, North unlocked the door and carefully stepped into the hall, shield raised. The attack was swift; the trio was immediately forced to face the threat.  
  
\--  
  
Gavin's eyes widened, and he flinched as two small darts breezed passed him and embedded themselves into one of the soldiers behind him. Daniel was grinning from ear to ear as he pulled more from somewhere--where the hell had he been keeping these things--and lurched forward to grip Gavin's arm and spin, trading places with him to shoot them at the next wave of attackers.  
  
They traded again when Gavin changed to put his shield up to guard their escape, and bodily pushed Daniel back and through a doorway to make for the staircase. "Go! I'll give you a few moments to run."  
  
"Like hell, I'm leaving you here," Daniel argued, ducking to swipe a dead guard's crossbow. One bolt, but it was better than nothing. He forced Gavin to lower his shield long enough for him to fire at the next soldier and let out a hoot of victory when it pierced through his enemy's face, right between the eyes. Their enemy collapsed, and the three behind him paused a second, shields raised in case Daniel had any more to fire off.  
  
While they were briefly stunned, Daniel grabbed Gavin's hand and dragged him down the hallway and to the stairs, dropping the now useless crossbow as they sprinted away. "Hurry up, old man. We do not have time for you to play decoy."  
  
"Where'd you learn to fight? I thought Simon was the warrior between the two of you." Gavin was torn between wanting Daniel to release him and taking a moment to enjoy the warmth of his hand. His firm grip and steady resolve were grounding in the chaos.  
  
"I was the sickly one between the two of us growing up, but Simon still went over his lessons with me when I was well enough to practice. He showed me the less strenuous tactics for the sake of my health at the time. Even as kids, he was attentive to people's needs." He almost envied him for it, but Daniel had found his own expressions of kindness and compassion.  
  
"Your aim is enviable," Gavin admitted. "I can fire a bow in a pinch, but throwing knives and darts is beyond me."  
  
"Because you prefer brute force and posturing, Gavin." Gavin noted the teasing smile on Daniel's lips and felt his own twitch.  
  
"Maybe I just like to show off."  
  
"Then learn how to throw knives rather than hack at things." Daniel tried to ignore the screams from the end of the hallway they'd just entered. He hated fighting and everything that came with it. They couldn't stop here, couldn't turn back to help. Simon would have, but Daniel held fast in his decision to put Connor's life first. He would put up with the guilt.  
  
They still had to find the prince regent.  
  
\--  
  
Kara whipped out her bow and fired from behind North as they backed up towards the next hallway. Meanwhile, North cut down anyone who got too close. Connor felt utterly useless; he understood the necessity of it, but that didn't make it any easier on him. When one guy managed to get around North and Kara, Connor finally had a chance to help them. He lashed out with one of his knives and deflected a blow with the other. He and Kara favored a style that had them continually circling their opponent and dancing around them. They were a blur of motion in close combat, always twisting, ducking, lashing out in the middle of a turn by using their momentum to add to the damage they delt.  
  
Kara was forced to do the same when there were too many getting too close to them. Her bladed tonfas spun almost as much as she did, slashing anyone who dared to close the distance between themselves and Kara. One mercenary tried to stop her motion by charging her with his shield. Kara danced out of his way. Once he was a step passed her, Kara yanked him back and used the tonfa's motion to slit his throat.  
  
Connor ducked around them in time to bodily shove away another who was trying to get Kara from behind. He lashed out. One slash. Two more. By the fourth, Connor was behind them, and while they were turning to catch him, Kara stabbed them in the back.  
  
The fight was over as quickly as it started, but already the three were winded.  
  
"We need to get out." North ordered them to get moving when Kara and Connor hesitated. "Now."  
  
Kara led them while North brought up the rear to watch their backs.  
  
\--  
  
Finding Connor was easier than it should have been.  
  
When they dashed around a corner, Gavin and Daniel crashed into them, nearly finding themselves impaled on North's sword.  
  
"Oh, thank Ranine. You're alive," Gavin panted, gripping his ribs from the stitch in his side. Fucking hell, he was getting too old for this.  
  
All five of them breathed a sigh of relief at finding more allies.  
  
North glanced over her shoulder, Connor mirroring the motion. The sounds of fighting echoed through the stone halls, and Daniel watched how Connor looked physically ill at commotion; he was powerless to help. Connor was masterful in battle, but his compassion would be the death of him.  
  
"We need to get moving." North and Gavin led the group, shields at the ready as they raced through the halls.  
  
The rush for the painting felt like it took years. And Allen was waiting for them when they got there, leaning against the wall next to the frame with a smirk.  
  
"Your Highness. You look a little tired and out of sorts. Are you unwell?" Connor wanted to punch him; the others shared the sentiment.  
  
Connor glanced at his friends before stepping forward, holding himself like the soldier he was and smiling cooly like the politician he pretended to be. "Lord Allen. What a pleasant surprise. You are looking dashing as ever this evening. To what do we owe the pleasure of your presence?"  
  
"Oh, drop the act, brat. You're no king."  
  
He heard North snort behind him before he responded to Allen's rudeness. "You started it." It was mature; this was the perfect way to handle the situation: being just as petty as Allen.  
  
"See? This is why you are not suited to be king. You cannot take anything seriousl--" Allen was cut off when one of Connor's daggers embedded itself in the wall just to the left of his head, one of Daniel's darts above him, and one of Kara's arrows hit the wall on the other side.  
  
"Is that serious enough for you?" North snarked, grinning.  
  
"Lord Allen? I suggest you leave. You cannot take all five of us," Kara warned. Honestly, she was itching for a fight, to slit his throat and watch the life seep out of him slowly. He got her people killed. He was at fault for half of the shit that happened.  
  
"No, I don't think I will. You see, Connor here is supposed to die by the end of the night. Markus should be dead if the poison has been administered like Duchess Stern planned. Your brother should be broken in enough to be our puppet. Just have to get you out of the picture, kid." Allen drew his sword and gestured at Connor. "Just the two of us? Winner walks away."  
  
Connor's blood ran cold. Markus was dead already? He knew they should have made a move sooner but...he couldn't be gone. No. Allen was trying to distract him.  
  
His fear and sorrow turned into cold fury. Connor's head tilted to the side a fraction, and he schooled his features into something menacing. If Amanda had ever cared, she would have been proud of his near perfect impression of her cold displeasure. "Oh, Lord Allen. I was finally getting to enjoy working with you. It's a shame that we don't have time for this duel."  
  
Behind his back, Connor made a motion to Kara.  
  
"Aw. I'll miss you too, kid. I will even take flowers to your grave." Lord Allen took another step closer and was met with an arrow to the throat. He staggered, eyes wide. That wasn't supposed to happen. Where were the other mercenaries? They should have flanked the group by now, and Allen stalling them was to buy his backup time to get to him.  
  
Kara raised her bow again and sneered, "I wish I could have done that with a blade, but this will have to suffice." She fired one more to kill him and tucked her weapons away.  
  
After his body went limp and hit the floor with a thud, Kara made for the painting, pointedly stepping on Lord Allen as she drew closer. She pried the picture away from the wall after undoing a latch on the back, swinging it open on a hinge. Behind it was a door that was completely flush with the wall, easily missed from the side. After pushing it open and grabbing one of the torches on the wall just inside, she lit it and made them follow her.  
  
To safety, they went.


	16. Drink to Survive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Body fluids, poisoning, wishing for death over vomiting (same tbh)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So alcohol can be used to negate certain poisons, but like, only one or two. Charcoal helps with a wider variety, but let's start with the booze first. Just pretend that those toxic things are available in this world. lol  
> Simon and Daniel's last name is Denarius. Dude, the number of DA refs I've made in this fic is disturbing...Sorry about that.

Everything hurt. His stomach was churning, and he felt himself twitching from the agony of it. What the hell was in that water? A sweat broke out, and chills ran through him. It was like having the flu and a stomach virus after being beaten half to death.  
  
Markus rolled a little more onto his stomach to empty bile onto the stone floor. Ranine help him. Why couldn't whatever this is just kill him? He'd rather have several arrows sticking out of him than puking his guts out like this.  
  
There was noise outside, and Markus hoped that it was someone who'd put him out of his misery. Why couldn't they just have mercy and make it quick? The duchess was a sick woman and what he wouldn't give to kill her himself.  
  
The door to his cell slammed open, and a shock of blond hair rushed to his side. It was hard to focus on him, but Markus was sure that it was Simon. Or was it Daniel? He had to be hallucinating.  
  
"Markus! Shit." Simon helped him sit up and quickly yanked his bag from his back, rifling through the contents until he pulled out several bottles. "Let's see. Fever, sweat, shivering, pain, vomiting...Shit. General Fowler, grab some alcohol. Something strong and make it quick!"  
  
Markus heard footsteps rushing away.  
  
"You two, help me get him back inside to meet Fowler halfway." Markus felt arms lifting him carefully and then jostling when they all but ran out of the cell with him. It only made his nausea worse, and Markus felt bile rising back up. Alcohol? What the fuck was that supposed to do? Finally, the bile reached its destination, and he vomited again.  
  
They rested him on a hall table when Fowler came back into view. Simon opened whatever the glass container was and forced Markus to open his mouth and drink it down. It burned, but it quickly numbed the pain in his throat from all of the vomiting he was doing.  
  
"You are trying to get me drunk in my final moments?" he mumbled weakly after what felt like an eternity, once the worst of the pain and other symptoms started to subside.  
  
Simon huffed a strained laugh and helped Markus sit up. "You're not going to die. The alcohol should help flush most of it out. Don't ask me how. Talk to Joshua when we get back."  
  
Simon turned to the general. "Get the king back to the palace and take him to Joshua. Leave a few men here as guards until I can get Nicholas."  
  
"We need to find the duchess still."  
  
Simon pointed at a stain on the floor. "She shouldn't be too difficult for us to locate."  
  
The general nodded and gestured for his men to help Markus. "One of you stay here with Denarius. I'll send a few others in to start looking for Duchess Stern."  
  
One of the soldiers nodded, and she pulled away from the group to stand with Simon. Fowler and the soldiers carried Markus away, but not before Simon grabbed his hand and murmured that it was good to see him alive.  
  
"Someone will be happy to see you," he teased, pleased when, even while looking like something a cat coughed up, Markus managed a small smile. "Be safe, Markus."  
  
\--  
  
His throat was sore, dry and felt like he'd swallowed sand. The bitter and rancid taste of bile hung heavy on his tongue and being given vinegar to drink wasn't helping the taste, or his stomach.  
  
The bread he was given was stale, but it was better than nothing, and at least it helped settle his stomach a little.  
  
And he was tired. He was so tired. The only thing that kept him sane through the pain and misery and horrible words they fed him were thoughts of getting out of here to save Connor and being the man Simon thought him to be. It was getting hard to continue caring; apathy would be so much easier than this, and it would end the pain just to let Amanda have what she wanted, what she always wanted.  
  
Besides, Connor had yet to come for him, and it had been, what, a month now? Nicholas had little concept of time while he was here.  
  
Amanda had brought body parts that belonged to Connor and Markus, but he hadn't heard cries of pain from Markus' cell. He had to remind himself of that, and Connor couldn't lead if he were being dismembered. But Amanda's supercilious attitude was increasing every time she visited Nicholas, knowing that tormenting Nicholas was beginning to take its toll on him.  
  
It didn't help that in his confinement Nicholas swore he could hear Simon talking somewhere nearby for days now, somewhere outside the door. He knew it wasn't really Simon; it was too distorted from being a figment of his imagination, but that didn't stop him from latching onto it. Any semblance of safety and comfort was better than none.  
  
He knew he was screwed when he actually /saw/ Simon in his cell. Either he was hallucinating, or Simon's ghost was here; Nicholas wasn't sure which he preferred.  
  
Simon Denarius. He was just as lovely as the day Nicholas had last seen him. His blond hair was a mess, and there were blood splatters on his armor and cheeks. Okay, the blood wasn't pretty, but the man beneath the gore was pretty. However, Nicholas didn't like the troubled expression on Simon's face. He wanted to wipe it away and make him smile again. It wasn't like he could touch Simon anyway. The man wasn't real, and Nicholas was too tired and sore.  
  
But he could feel Simon's touch. It was gentle, careful and achingly loving as Simon gently cupped Nicholas' cheeks before wrapping his arms around him. If Nicholas descended into madness, at least he could have this imaginary Simon with him, to hold him when he was weak and losing himself. His warm and sturdy embrace was the only thing holding him upright at the moment, which he found to be odd, but he chose not to question it.  
  
"Pretty as ever," he mumbled, sagging into Simon's arms. This wasn't right. Maybe Simon was a ghost and not a representation of insanity.  
  
Nicholas must have said it out loud when he heard a strained laugh above him. "I'll remember that, darling."  
  
\--  
  
Nicholas was a mess, and his eyes looked so dead when they focused on Simon in the doorway. Could he even see Simon or was he looking passed him? The expression on Nicholas' face tugged at his heart. He didn't know that Simon had survived, he remembered. Damn. What a way to find out that Simon was alive and well.  
  
He stepped forward carefully and knelt in front of Nicholas, removing his gloves before reaching out to brush his fingers over his cheeks. Real, alive, whole.  
  
But Nicholas looked so ragged like this.  
  
The stench of the cell told Simon that Nicholas was in a similar position as Markus, unable to escape the only place he could relieve himself, nowhere to bathe, no clothes besides those they were kidnapped in. He ignored the revolting sensory input in favor of carefully tugging Nicholas to him and wrapping his arms around him.  
  
Nicholas was alive. Simon knew he would be; he wasn't sure if they would make it in time to save Markus, but he knew Nicholas would be in one piece. At least, he was okay outwardly. Simon didn't know how long it would take to help Nicholas come back to himself. Simon would be there to walk beside him through it, regardless. It would be messy, but to see Nicholas sharing secret smiles with Simon again, to see him cutting up with his brother, Simon would kill for it. All of it would be worth the recovery.  
  
"Pretty as always." Nicholas was muttering into his shoulder, and despite the situation, Simon couldn't stop the pained laugh.  
  
"I'll remember that darling," Simon teased, slightly smiling as he hugged Nicholas closer. "Come on, love. Let's get you home, okay?"  
  
Nicholas said nothing, but Simon helped him to stand, and the other soldier stepped up to aid him in getting Nicholas back into the main house and outside. Putting him on a horse and expecting him to stay there was going to be a challenge. Simon ended up on the horse first, and two soldiers helped him get Nicholas onto the saddle in front of Simon. He wrapped one arm around him and gently tugged the man until Nicholas' back was pressed against Simon's front. After checking that he was settled, Simon was relieved to see that Nicholas was asleep. At least, he hoped it was just sleeping.  
  
"How many are staying behind to track Duchess Stern?" he asked.  
  
"Seven, sir. It shouldn't take long."  
  
"Good, bring her to the city and lock her in a cell until she can be dealt with." And let her rot, he thought bitterly. After all the trouble she caused, Simon half hoped that everyone forgot that she was down there and let her starve to death. It was far less than what she deserved after all of the shit she'd done to Markus and Simon. "Round up all of her staff as well and put them on house arrest until I can send more soldiers here to bring them in for questioning."  
  
If they cooperated, they might get a less damning sentence.  
  
"Yes, sir. Safe travels."  
  
Simon nodded and turned his horse away from the house. He adjusted his grip on Nicholas once more, and then he and his men were off, racing for the palace to get Nicholas treated for his injuries.


	17. Joshua is Done

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a mess, tbh

General Fowler and his men rode up to a palace that was in the tail-end of the chaos. Night had fallen, and the fight was mostly over, but there were a few stragglers that the guards who were left posted were in the process of rounding up the last of the attackers. Great. They saved Markus from one attacker, only to bring him back to a palace filled with dead and dying attackers. Was nowhere safe? Ranine, he hoped Connor made it out okay.  
  
His soldiers sensed his unease and offered to scout the place first.  
  
"See if there's anyone in the barracks first. Round them up and then come back. One of you alert the physician of our coming. I want him prepared for us. Tell him that the king was poisoned and is malnourished, but I do not know Nicholas' state."  
  
Three ran off to go search for more guards and soldiers and came back a short time later with over a dozen more armed people. The one he sent to find Joshua did not return, but Fowler couldn't wait for the soldier to return to see if they found him. With their now large group, Fowler helped Markus off the horse, and one other soldier assisted him in carrying Markus into the palace and then to the medical wing.  
  
Joshua and the soldier Fowler had sent ahead were waiting for them, and the pair helped get Markus to a bed. The place was packed. And eerily quiet. On the upside, those that noticed the king's presence seemed immediately cheered. Their tired faces lit up in excitement and joy.  
  
"I can walk there, you know," Markus mumbled.  
  
Joshua shushed him. "Hush, your majesty, and let us help."  
  
Markus did as he was told, for once, and let the four of them fuss over him. He knew it was part of their jobs, and he really did need the aid, but it killed his pride. He wanted nothing more than to get back to work. Markus was tired of being confined to one place and dependent on someone else. This time, it was necessary.  
  
"Forgive my saying so, sire," Joshua started, "but you look like shit."  
  
Markus shot him a withering look, but it melted into a tired smile. "And you look like a ray of sunshine."  
  
"I try." Joshua pulled out a pen and paper to jot down all of Markus' symptoms and then what Simon had given him. Mostly, Markus would be okay, but now the starvation was the bigger threat. "As soon as things settle down a little, I'll send for the cooks to make a broth. We'll start you on a liquid diet for a couple of days and work you back up to your usual appetite."  
  
"So long as it's not stale bread and water, I'll be happy." And fucking hell, this bed was a dream compared to the cold, stone floor. Markus felt his tired body almost melt into it. Sure, the beds here were far from cozy, but compared to what he was sleeping on for over a month, this was a delight on his sore body.  
  
"Yeah, no, that is certainly not part of your health plan." Joshua wrote a note and passed it to one of the guards. "Carefully get this to the cook. If you see anyone who is injured, send them my way. Have those well enough to help, assist them in their trek here. Thank you."  
  
"Your majesty, I would bow but..."  
  
Markus looked over at a nearby bed where one of many injured staff lay, watching him. The whole room was looking at him, and Markus forced himself into a seated position, shooting Joshua a look when he started to protest it.  
  
"I appreciate the thought, sir. Perhaps you can make it up to me by getting better soon," he teased with a tired smile. "I believe you had two children at home, yes? You're from the kitchens."  
  
The cook perked up at being recognized. "Yes! Maggie and Caroline." He turned sheepish when he realized that he was a little loud. "I think I can do that, sire."  
  
"Then rest. All of you. I'm going to mother hen you worse than Joshua if you don't recover soon." It was far from a perfect pep talk, but Markus saw some of the relieved smiles when they saw that their king was just as friendly as lively as ever. Markus felt like absolute shit, but if it helped them...  
  
"Sorry, Joshua," he murmured, flopping onto his back with a huff of laughter. "Ranine. Part of me wishes you all had let me pass. I would feel a lot better right now."  
  
Joshua swatted him, huffing. "Your majesty. Talk like that is nonsense and I won't have it in my infirmary. Understood?"  
  
"Okay, mother. Ow!" That earned him another swat, and Markus chuckled at it. "I'll behave now."  
  
"Good."  
  
There was silence between them as Joshua worked to set up a few medicines for Markus to take when some of the alcohol wore off. He needed it mostly out of his system before he could do much else. At least Markus wasn't dying now.  
  
"Where's Connor? Is he okay?"  
  
Joshua's hands paused in their work of mixing a poultice for the bruises and scrapes on Markus' body. "I...don't know. Last I saw, North was guarding him in his quarters, and Kara was rushing to find him and get him out of the palace safely. Allen betrayed us...but guards found him dead with two arrows in him. Kara's work, I'm assuming."  
  
If Kara and North were missing as well, and not dead somewhere in the palace, then they had escaped.  
  
"Where did they find his body?"  
  
"Hmmm, beside the painting of the Storm Coast. Why?"  
  
Markus felt his lips twitch towards a smile. "Yeah, they'll be fine. Likely, they'll be back by tomorrow evening at the latest."  
  
Kara would come back first to check and make sure everything was safe before bringing Connor back. He wanted to see him now. He needed to know that he was okay, that Amanda hadn't succeeded in killing him. Markus knew, logically, that Connor was perfectly safe, but it wasn't the same as seeing it for himself.  
  
Joshua smirked when he saw the look on Markus' face.  
  
"You'll have the love of your life back soon enough, sire."  
  
"Oh, hush, Joshua."  
  
"He's been beside himself with worry since your disappearance. He's a mess. The man hasn't slept, has hardly eaten, and he's looked rumpled every day." Joshua started washing the grime off of Markus after he drew a curtain around his bed. "I doubt his vows will mean much when he finally sees you again."  
  
"I wish. The man refuses to cross a line. He grows close to it, but..."  
  
"Ugh, just kiss him when you see him. Damn the consequences. He shouldn't be one of the lead Royal Guards as an heir, anyway. Nicholas shouldn't be either. Why it was allowed in the first place..."  
  
"I couldn't force him to quit, though. It wouldn't be right."  
  
"Doing what makes him feel useful does not mean that it is right for the kingdom. He's next in line for the throne, Markus. If something happens to you, it falls to him. He can't lead if he's dead or worse because he wanted to play guard captain."  
  
Markus didn't respond. Joshua was right. As much as Connor loved his job, and was loyal to his vows to keep Markus safe, politically, it wasn't possible for Connor to remain in the Royal Guard. If he wanted to train recruits, it would be one thing, but putting himself between Markus and danger was no longer feasible. This whole mess was proof of that.  
  
"He's...going to be pissed."  
  
"I'm sure you'll find a way to make it up to him, your majesty."

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts? Crits?
> 
> Come talk to me at ixhadbadxdays on Tumblr. I'd love to hear from you guys. :0)


End file.
